Cold Hard Facts
by cmonace
Summary: ON HIATUS. There was only so much they could handle. But they realize they said goodbye too soon, when worlds fall apart and he has nobody to turn to. They find each other, but is it for a day, or for a lifetime? Rogan.
1. A Last Goodbye

**AN: No, I haven't stopped writing Open Your Eyes. I am, however, having major writing block when it comes to that story. So, I decided to start this one and hopefully it will help me out of my writing block as well as convince my readers that I haven't forgotten about you. I simply am having problems writing the next chapter of Open Your Eyes. Forgive me, and I hope you like this one. I've been thinking about this for awhile. It's more In The Rough than Open Your Eye. What can I say? I missed writing angst. REVIEW!**

**This chapter is just an introduction. The chapters will get longer starting with the next one, trust me.**

_"I love you," Rory Gilmore whispered, her voice coming out in hoarse, soft sobs._

_Logan Huntzberger sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead, "I love you, too, Ace, you know that."_

_Rory sat down on the couch, _their_ couch, and tried to steady her sharp, haggard breaths. Her hand was shaking so violently that she could barely keep the phone pressed against her ear._

_"But we can't do this anymore..." she said, digging the nails of her free hand into her palm._

_"I know," he replied gently, fighting back tears himself, "I know."_

_"Another year in London, Logan. And then who knows what?"_

_"I want to figure something else out, Ace--"_

_"I know you do," she interrupted firmly, "But we both know that's near impossible."_

_Logan downed another shot, trying desperately to shake off the unbelievable feeling of depression that was draped over him. When did everything become so horribly wrong?_

_"I wish I could give you everything you want."_

_She was silent, and blood was emerging from the fresh wounds in her palm, but that was nothing compared to the pain pressing down on her heart. Why couldn't he just come home? Everything would be okay if he could just come home..._

_"Me too," she murmured, tears cascading down her cheeks._

_"Ace..."_

_He stood up and walked to the window of his apartment, staring out at the streets of London. The last thing he wanted was to let her go. He loved her. He missed her. God, he just wanted to go home. Another year in London. Another year. It was too much for them to handle, neither one of them was quite that strong._

_"It's time to let go," she told him._

_"I know."_

_He turned away from the window and poured himself another shot. Numb. He didn't want it to hurt so much, he didn't want the choked sound of her voice to rip him apart inside. Damn it, he didn't want to feel like every part of him was shattering as she spoke._

_"So, this is it, Ace?" he inquired, not an ounce of hope in his questioning tone._

_"I think we both know that it is, but..." her voice trailed off._

_"But what?"_

_"I can't imagine life..."_

_"Without you," he finished._

_"Exactly."_

_She didn't make a move to wipe away the tears, didn't even dare to breath in the silence that followed. He had been her rock for so long, her _everything_ for so long. And just when she thought the year was over, that he would be returning home to her, they recieved news that he would be staying in London for another year. What kind of sick father did that to his only son?_

_They knew it was over between them two weeks ago when Logan informed her that he had had to remain in Europe. They didn't want to believe that something that meant so much could end so quickly, but it was unavoidable. She needed stability, and that was something he couldn't give her. Not right now, maybe not ever._

_"I don't plan on finding out what life would be like without you. We've been through too much to not talk. There's no bad feelings between us, right?"_

_"Of course not."_

_"Then I don't see why we can't be..." his stopped._

_"Friends?" she offered._

_He downed another shot. Friends: friends with the girl he loved more than anything, friends with the person who meant most to him in the world. He couldn't even imagine going back to being friends with her, but it seemed to be his only choice. He had to let her go. She deserved so much more than what he had to offer. And if being friends was the only way he could keep her in his life, well, that would have to do._

_"Friends," he agreed, a sad smile pulling at his lips._

_The only reply he heard was the faint sound of sobs grabbing her again. He hated to be that one making her cry, hated that there was nothing he could do to bring a smile to her beautiful face again. If he had his way, he would be back in New Haven with her at this very instant. And if he could figure out another way he would blow off his father and come home, but..._

_"I've never been in a breakup quite like this before," she quipped, attemping to lighten the mood even though her sad tone contridicted the joking statement._

_"We never did do anything quite by the book," Logan shot back._

_Rory furiously wiped at her eyes, allowing a sad laugh to leave her at Logan's last statement. She felt like she was losing a piece of herself, and the worst part was that there was no way to it back together. They were heading in two completely different directions. There was no way they could stay in each other's lives for another year with an ocean in between them. It was too hard already._

_But, God, she loved him so much..._

_"I'm sorry, Ace. I wish thing were different, you have no idea how much I wish things were different..."_

_"I know. I know you do."_

_"And who knows? Maybe when I get back we can--"_

_She cut him off, "Logan..."_

_"Sorry. I know."_

_He did know. He knew that this was it for them. Their last chance was being used up and it wasn't by them, it was by a situation beyond their control. They were letting go of each other because of his life and his job, because of his 'Huntzberger Destiny'._

_"Don't be sorry," she shook her head, "I wish it could be that way."_

_"You have a class soon," Logan reminded her, his voice etched with concern._

_"I know."_

_"We'll talk again."_

_"Promise?"_

_He smiled, tears gathering behind his chocolate brown eyes, "Of course."_

_"Okay," she paused, tucking her knees upto her chin, "Bye, Logan."_

_His voice came out in a whisper, "Goodbye, Ace."_

--------

Rory's head shot up, snapping her out of her daydream. It was still dark outside, long before the rest of the working world of Hartford was awake. This was the time she allowed for herself to think about him, about them, and what happened to their once magical relationship. With a heavy sigh, she raised her coffee to her lips and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

They _had _talked after that conversation. Once or twice, one of them had dialed the familar numbers and initiated the conversation. But those phone calls died off, for it was too painful to hear the voice of the one they loved. And so, with no bitter feelings between them, they drifted apart. It had been two months since they last spoken.

She liked to pretend she had moved on, that she didn't need him in her life anymore, but she knew how wrong that was. Even with her job at the small, Hartford paper, and her recent adventure into casual dating, she still felt like a giant part of her was missing. And that part had disheveled blonde her and an amazing smirk...

She wondered what he was doing now...

---------

Logan sat in the back of his hired car, his head pounding from the endless string of meetings he'd just attended. It was times like these, in the minutes following those dull, incredibly long meetings, that he let his thoughts wander to _her_. Rory. The one person that made his first year in London almost bearable, because even if she was thousands of miles away, hearing her voice could make his whole day better.

He thought about calling her several times in the past two months, but everytime his fingers searched for her name in his caller id, he had to stop short. Hearing her speak was too painful, remembering always hurt too much. It was better not to talk at her at all, and remember them the way they used to be.

It was easy to believe that he had moved on. He had his job, of course, and he had reverted back to his old dating ways. But even with his new friends and his busy career, he felt like something very important was missing. And that something important had amazing blue eyes and a fantastic sense of humor.

He wondered what she was doing now...


	2. Still I Think Of You

Rory closed the door to her apartment and leaned heavily against it, taking deep breaths in an attempt to fend off her pounding headache. It had been one of those days: one of those days that made her feel like nothing was right in her life anymore. Her horrible day at work had been followed by an even more horrible date, and at that moment she was sure a nervous breakdown was heading her way.

It was moments like these when she missed him the most, because even when she felt like everything else was wrong, Logan was always right. He was_ always _right. And even when he was in London, even when he couldn't smirk at her disheveled appearance and hand her a drink, he could still hear the stress in her voice over the phone, and he could still make everything okay again.

With a small sigh, she placed her purse on the kitchen counter and poured herself a drink. That was something she learned from Logan over the years, she supposed: a drink after a bad day never hurt anyone. All she needed was just enough to take the edge off. Collapsing on the couch, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her knees up to her chin, allowing her tired eyes to slowly begin to close.

She guessed her life was going well. It could be worse. She had a good job at the Hartford Gazette, and she was working towards bigger and better things. In Hartford, she was close enough to her newly single mother so that comfort, laughs, and compassion were never too far away. And yet, there was something, more like someone, huge missing from her life. Every once and awhile she would reach for her phone, thinking that she had enough nerve to call him. But that nerve would quickly die away, and she would snap her phone closed. Things just weren't the same anymore; the two of them weren't the same anymore.

She wondered what he was doing, how his life was working out. The last time she talked to him he was still in Europe, but moving to a new paper hours away; hours away from all his friends he had grown to hold dear, and all the familiarity he finally had a grasp on. Her heart had broke for him in that final conversation, because she knew he was falling apart even if he would never show it. It was the last straw for him, as she new it would've been for her if she was in his shoes. He lost her, the one he loved, and then he had to turn around and lose everything else. How he held himself together at all Rory would never know.

As for her, the people she could truly depend on dwindled the moment Logan exited her life. Lorelai and Lane were always there, of course. But Lorelai was preoccupied with her own bag of issues from the historical Luke and Christopher whirlwind that ended with Lorelai alone once more. And Lane had a child, and a still fresh marriage to worry about. Rory didn't want to bother either one of them too much with complaints about her life.

But then there were her new found friends from the Gazette. Alaina and Brad had become two of her best friends, and she wasn't sure where she would be without them. They didn't know the whole story about Logan; there was no way she could make them completely understand. But they knew that she had been in love, and that the two of them had mutually let go. They knew that she still loved him, and she missed him, and that occasionally she would fall apart. But they were always there to pick her back up.

She had her mom. She had her friends. Shouldn't that make her life okay?

She downed the rest of her drink and placed it on the coffee table before forcing herself to get up and walk into her small bedroom. After changing into her pajamas, she all but fell on her bed and let her tired eyes drift closed. But even as she lay there, completely exhausted, she couldn't drift off to sleep. As always, she felt alone in the bed, even if she had downgraded herself to a single for that exact reason. When Logan was around, even when his arms weren't wrapped around her, she still knew that he was there, and she felt safe. When he was there, she felt loved.

She didn't feel loved anymore. She felt empty. And when the tears came, they were the only things about her that felt real, that felt alive.

But her life was alright. It could be worse.

So why couldn't she just be happy? Without him, life still went on.

--------

"How was your date last night? He was a gorgeous specimen of a man," Alaina greeted Rory the next morning, handing her a cup of coffee as she spoke.

Rory rolled her eyes, "With the personality of the glass container his specimen self would be held in."

"Yes, well, the hot ones are either assholes or morons. What are you gonna do?"

"Like you should talk," Rory shot back with a smile, "Your fiance is hot _and_ smart, remember?"

"Forget about him. He's a freak of nature."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear that."

Rory sat down at her desk and flicked on her computer before turning her gaze back to her best friend. Alaina laughed slightly, her eyes sparkling as she did. She brushed a strand of short, brown hair behind her ear and sat down on the chair infront of Rory's desk, her steady brown eyes studying Rory intently.

"Are you okay? You don't look like you slept at all last night."

"Tough day at work," Rory explained with a shrug, "I had a lot on my mind."

"Like?" Alaina probed.

"Like nothing. I resolved it this morning."

"Rory..."

"Laina..." Rory mocked, forcing a smile, "I'll talk to you later. I'm fine."

"I know you're fine, Rory, you don't have to tell me twice," a new voice joked, entering the conversation for the first time.

"Oh, Brad, with lines like that how could any girl resist you?" Rory laughed, glancing up at the tall brunette.

"Don't mock the lines. They are how I got my girlfriend afterall."

"God knows why," Alaina retorted, flashing him a smile.

Rory shifted her gaze between her two best friends with a grin. They were both a lot alike: full of life, yet stable. And most importantly, she guessed, was that they understood her for the most part. That was all she could ever really ask for: two people who understood her, and the way she thought. They never asked too many questions, they just knew.

But even for as close as the three of them were, Alaina and Brad had more to their lives than just their group of friends. Alaina had her fiance, and Brad had his longtime girlfriend. Every night they each went home to something more. And what did she go home to? Alcohol if she was lucky, Rory silently scoffed. There had to more to life than what she had. There had to be.

"I should get to work," Rory said suddenly.

Alaina stood up, "Okay Gilmore, whatever you want. We'll see you later."

Rory waved her hand slightly, "Bye."

With her friends gone, Rory shifted her attention back to her computer and attempted to begin work on her latest article. But the words blurred before her eyes as her thoughts wandered, and she was completely unable to concentrate. She sighed, it was going to be one of those days; one of those days when she couldn't get him off her mind. She should've seen it coming last night. After her awful date, she couldn't help but think about him and what could've been. Today, she supposed, was just a 'Logan hangover'.

It had been a little over three months since they had broken up, two since she had heard his voice. Shouldn't she be over it by now? Moving on? She was sure he was. Well, of course he was. He was Logan Huntzberger. He could have practically any girl in the world he wanted. And now, there was nothing standing in between him and a country full of beautiful women with accents. Holding on was useless, he was never coming back. They had ended it. They weren't meant to be together in the end. And that was what she had to learn to accept.

Biting back a groan, she downed a long sip of her coffee and shook her head slightly, sending long, redish brown waves onto her cheeks. She need to talk to her mother. Afterall, Lorelai was going through practically the same emotional trip as her daughter. She would have something to say to brighten Rory's day.

She slipped her cellphone out of her purse and quickly selected Lorelai's number.

"Hey," Lorelai greeted, her bubbly voice dampened slightly, "What's up?"

"Did you ever have one of those days where you feel like everything in your life is completely worthless?"

"Yeah, kid, all the time," Lorelai paused, "But then I remember that coffee exists, as does George Clooney, and my day just gets a little brighter."

"George Clooney is a little old for me." Rory replied with a small smile.

"Older men are good for the soul, ask Angelina."

"They got a divorce."

"Then ask Ashton Kutcher," Lorelai paused, "Just flip flop it first."

Rory laughed slightly, leaning back in her chair and taking another long sip of coffee.

"So, what's going on, Rory? Why the opening question?"

"Just a bad night slash day," Rory explained, "Some days I just miss him more than others."

Lorelai chuckled sadly, "Try that with two of them, hun."

Rory bit her lip lightly, knowing how much Lorelai missed both Christopher and Luke in her life. Rory had never experienced anything like it, but she knew that Lorelai loved them both, and for completely different reasons. Christopher knew her in ways Luke couldn't, simply because Chris had been there to watch her grow up and evolve. But Luke, Luke had always been there. The two of them were like an unstoppable team. And in the end, it was all too much for Lorelai to handle. She had let them both go. And Rory knew that Lorelai found herself as unbearably lonley as her daughter did, no matter how many other people she had in her life.

"I think I'll come in for a visit this weekend," Rory offered, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. That would be great."

"I have to get to work. I'll see you this weekend?"

"This weekend. Bye, Rory."

"Bye, mom."

Rory closed her phone, feeling slightly better after the brief conversation with her mother. Even as close as Lorelai was, Rory still didn't get to see her enough for her liking. Between the paper, her friends, and having a somewhat functional dating life, getting home to Stars Hollow was not as easy as it might seem.

She reached into her drawer to grab her tape recorder with the interview for her article on it, but before her hand could grasp the item she was searching for, something else all together caught her eye. With a small, sad small she laced her fingers around the picture and pulled it out of the drawer. She kept it there for so many reasons, the main one being just to remember how happy they used to be.

She traced her fingertip around Logan's smirking face, taking in everything about the moment. She had her hands pressed against his chest and she was smiling up at him; his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and his forehead was almost pressed against hers. In that captured instant, it was like nobody else in the world existed. It was just them, together, and nothing else mattered.

Slowly, she placed it back in the drawer and turned her complete attention back to article. Day by day she would learn how to get by.

--------

"You never said that!" Brad's girlfriend, Gina, protested, "You lie!"

Rory laughed, "I knew that it wasn't your lines that drew her in. Nobody in their right mind would date you after that."

"She's night you know," Gina agreed, nodding her black curls towards Rory.

Brad pretended to look hurt, "You women, ganging up on me and my lines."

"Well, Brad," Alaina jumped in, "If they weren't so incredibly bad..."

"Back off the man's lines," Carter grinned, pulling his fiance closer to his side, "It's all that some people have."

Alaina laughed and brushed her lips against Carter's before shooting Brad a smug expression.

"You all suck," Brad announced.

"Is that anyway to treat your girlfriend?" Gina demanded, reaching for his hand.

"It is when she insults you," he replied, but laced his fingers with hers anyway.

Rory smiled at the two couples, but there was a sadness beneath her happy expression. That was the way her and Logan used to be: happy, joking, unable not to touch for a long period of time. She sighed and took another sip of her drink, forcing the smile to stay on her face. The only way she was going to be able to move on from him was if she could spend nights like this without tears forming behind her eyes. She had a date planned for the night after the next. Eventually, she would find someone who would take his place. Eventually, she would be okay again.

"By the way, Rory," Alaina announced, "I read your last article. Good stuff."

"Thanks."

"I agree," Brad nodded, holding up his glass, "You've got some serious talent, my friend."

"You flatter me."

"I try," Brad shot back with a wink, causing him to receive a sock in the arm from his girlfriend.

"Easy there, Brad, I wouldn't want to breakup a relationship simply because you can't resist my writing skills," Rory teased.

Gina laughed, "What can I say? I didn't get the writing gene, I suppose."

"That's okay," Brad consoled, kissing her cheek, "You got some other genes that I'm quite fond of."

"Brad!" Gina protested.

Alaina held up her hand, "Too much information."

The ringing of Rory's cellphone interrupted the conversation. She glanced at the caller id and was about to flip it open when she quickly performed a double take. That couldn't be right. Why would _he_ be calling her? They hadn't talked in a year or more, ever since he graduated from college. Practically holding her breath, she flipped open the phone and stepped few feet away from her table of friends.

"Hello?"

"Rory! Long time, no talk, eh?"

She couldn't help but smile, "I'll say, Finn. What's going on?"

"Nothing in particular. Me and Colin are in town and we thought we'd check and see if you were around."

She sighed, his voice bringing back painful memories of Logan, "I'm in Hartford."

"We're in New Haven visiting a few friends. Why don't you come see us tomorrow night?"

She paused, forcing back the tears burning behind her eyes. If just hearing Finn's voice could make her nearly break down, she couldn't imagine what spending an evening with both of them would do to her. They were too much like Logan; too much apart of his old life. Seeing them wasn't an option. She would fall apart.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, Rory, it'll be fun. We haven't seen you in ages," he paused, "Is this about you and Logan breaking up? Because according to him there are no hard feelings between the two of you."

A lump formed in her throat, "There aren't."

"Then come see us! Please?"

A small smile forced its way to her lips at the sound of the Australian's pleading tone. It was hard to resist a desperate Finn, no matter how drunk he most likely was. She swallowed hard, forcing the tears to remain tucked behind her emotionless blue eyes. Maybe this would be good for her. Maybe.

"Okay, Finn. Where should we meet?"

"How about The Pub, for old times sake?"

She rolled her eyes, "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack, love. We haven't been there in forever."

"Fine, the pub it is. Nine okay?"

"Wonderful. See you then, Reporter Girl."

She smiled at the sound of her old nickname, "Bye."

She closed her phone and held it tightly in her grip, so tightly that her knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white. She shifted her gaze back to the table and watched her friends laughing, joking, and looking genuinely happy to be there. More than anything, she missed being happy like that. Maybe seeing Colin and Finn would be good for her, maybe they would make her feel alive again. But she knew the odds of that were slim. More than likely, the painful memories would come rushing back at full force. But seeing them again, seeing a glimpse of her past again, might just be worth it.

With a deep breath, she turned around and walked back to the table, sliding into the seat she had vacated.

Alaina looked at her quizzically, "Who was that?"

"Just an old friend of mind."

Almost immediately, Alaina and Brad's eyes grew wide and turned to stare at her. With a soft, sad sigh she shook her head quickly.

"No," was all she said.

And they understood; of course they understood.

The conversation continued, but all Rory could do was stare at the wooden table top. These were Logan's friends, not hers. The only reason she ever had any contact with them was because of her ex-boyfriend. If they were there, shouldn't Logan be there? And how painful would it be to be watching the door to The Pub all night waiting for the familiar blonde to walk in the door? Would she break down infront of them? Should she call it off?

But deep down, she knew that she couldn't, and that she wouldn't. For Colin and Finn, as crazy as they were, were still apart of her. Even if they weren't extremely close with her, they were still Logan's best friends. And being indirectly connected to him was better than not being connected at all.


	3. And I Miss You

**AN: I'm alive! That's somewhat shocking, I know. Sorry for the lack of updates lately. It's not for lack of ideas, but for lack of time. Luckily, I finally found the time to sit down and write this chapter. Hopefully I'll have some spare time soon to write the next chapter of Open Your Eyes. I already have an idea for it, it's just a matter of sitting down and writing it. Anyway, I hope you'll review a lot even though I haven't been great with the updating. I'm trying, I promise. READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE!**

Logan brushed a strand of blond hair behind his date, Julianna's, ear and grazed her lips again. The slender girl didn't notice that she was way more into the kiss than he was, so he just continued to hold her in his arms.

He shouldn't still be thinking about Rory, he knew that. He practically had beautiful girls falling at his feet, and yet, there was only one girl in the world who he really wanted. He sighed softly as Julianna pulled away, looking at him seductively with her soft, hazel eyes.

"Do you want to take this someplace else?" she inquired, gesturing around his apartment's living room and towards the back hallway.

Logan winced, "Actually Jul, I'm exhausted. I think it would be better if we continue this another night."

She stuck out her bottom lip slightly and wrapped her ankle around his, running her fingers lightly over his bare shoulder, "Are you sure?"

He nodded firmly as he reached for his shirt, "Sorry."

Julianna stared at him for a second, her hazel eyes practically begging. When she didn't get a response, she adjusted her slinky silver top and stood up, her short skirt brushing against her toned thighs.

"Call me?" she asked as they walked towards the door.

He shrugged, "Sure."

As soon as she disappeared from his apartment, Logan poured himself a drink and collapsed back on the couch. Most nights, he could make it through a date in the hope that he would find someone to take Rory's place. But then there were the nights were he knew that was impossible, and he just couldn't handle making the evening last any longer than necessary.

It wasn't like his life had gone completely down the tubes since they broke up. It had been difficult at first, losing Rory and his friends from London all around the same time. He moved to one of his father's newly acquired newspapers and for a few weeks, he fell into a horrible mood he just couldn't shake.

Then he met Travis and Miles, and he felt his old self coming out again. They had become two of his best friends, but the one thing they didn't know about was the girl from his past. He didn't talk about her, not anymore.

He wished he could just pick up the phone and talk to her like he used to. He missed hearing her voice after a long day and feeling like everything was okay. She never failed to bring a smile to his face, no matter what his day had been like. Rory knew him better than anyone in the world, and more than anything, he missed being understood. He missed laughing like he meant it.

He was sure she was living a successful life, just like he always knew she would. He knew she had the paper, and of course Lorelai. She would always have her mother. And even though it pained him to think about it, she probably had a new boyfriend who was showing her the love and attention she deserved. He sighed, the love and attention _he_ was unable to provide.

As successful and mature as he had become, he couldn't help but despise his destiny for taking her away from him. He would trade all the money and hard work in a second to have her back in his arms. But that wasn't the way things worked. He had his life, and she had hers. They had been unable to combine, and so they went their separate ways. That was life; he just had to learn to deal with it.

Of course, Rory wasn't the only person he'd lost. Colin and Finn, his two best friends from college, were practically nonexistent in his busy life. There were the occasional phone calls, and they were two of the people he turned to after the break up, but that was nothing compared to the inseparable team they had been at Yale. Sometimes he missed Connecticut more than he could bear.

The one person who had remained a constant in his hectic life was the one person who had literally been there from the very beginning. His sister, Honor, was more than just the only family member he truly liked, she was one of his best friends. After the fateful phone call with Rory, she had flown to Europe to be with him for awhile. Without her, he wasn't sure if he would've made it through.

A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts, and he rose slowly from the couch to answer it. When he pulled it open, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"What is it, Julie?" he asked, taking in the pretty girl before him.

"I forgot my purse," she informed him with a smile, "So, I thought I'd come back and see if you wanted to continue the evening after all."

Logan clenched his jaw as he located the purse on his hardwood floor. In one swift motion he picked it up and handed it to her, his brown eyes never softening.

"I told you I'm exhausted. Some other time."

He face fell, "Fine. Good night, Logan."

"Night."

He closed the door on Julianna for the second time that night and almost groaned. It was not a good night for him to be on a date, mostly because he couldn't get his mind of Rory. Every time he looked into Julianna's hazel eyes, he couldn't help but see Rory's striking blue ones. No girl had lived up to the standard of Rory Gilmore just yet.

Turning down the back hallway, he marched straight into the bedroom and practically fell on his bed, lacing his fingers behind his head. It was going to be a long night, the kind where he couldn't sleep because memories wouldn't stop racing through his mind. He let a lot get away the night Rory left his life, and he wasn't sure he was ever going to get over the empty feeling she left behind.

- - - - - - - -

"Hey Huntzberger," Travis greeted the next morning, "How was you're date with the blond last night?"

Logan glanced up at his friend and shrugged, "Okay."

Travis grinned and ran a hand through his light brown hair, "You had a date with a girl that looked like she popped out of the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated and all you can say is okay?"

"Well, she wasn't wearing a swimsuit, so..." Logan smirked as he let his voice trail off, shifting his attention back to his computer.

"Oh, you're clever."

"I wouldn't be you're boss if I wasn't."

"My boss," Travis laughed, "That's just what they want you to think. We all know who's really running this place."

"Yeah, Satan."

"That would explain why it's so hot in here," Travis agreed with another chuckle, "Where has your dad been anyway?"

"The States, mostly torturing the poor workers of New York."

"Just as long as he's not here, my friend."

"Agreed."

"Okay, so, the real reason I'm here is to drop of these files for you to look at."

"And here I thought you just wanted to see my pretty face."

"Don't flatter yourself, Logan. Do I look blond and leggy to you?"

Logan laughed, "Put on a swimsuit and I'll let you know."

"Just look at the files, would you?"

"Yeah, sure. Just leave them here, Maria Sharapova."

"Man, believe me, if I looked that good in a swimsuit I wouldn't be working here."

Logan laughed as his friend worked his way back into the crowd of the office. Travis was completely unlike any of the friends he had in the past. Miles was easily comparable to the out there, fun loving nature of Colin and Finn, and even his friends from London. But Travis was something else all together. Travis was much more mature, and much more down to earth. He didn't grow up with the money Logan and all his other friends had. To Logan, Travis was one of the most real people he ever met.

"Did I just hear you guys talk about Maria Sharapova and something about Travis in a swimsuit?" Miles's voice asked suddenly, "Because for as great as that first image is, the second one is well, not as pleasant."

"I look better than you in a swimsuit anyway," Travis chuckled as he walked by Logan's desk again, flexing his muscular arms slightly.

Miles rolled his eyes, "That's what you think."

Logan shook his head at his friends' antics and smiled, "Could you two please get out of my face so I can get some work done."

"Yeah, yeah. Fine," Miles grumbled, turning away from Logan's desk, "See you later."

"Bye."

Logan began flipping through the files Travis left on his desk, only to be interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of his secretary's voice.

"Logan?" Erin said softly, placing a hand on his desk.

He shifted his eyes upward to meet the gaze of the attractive girl standing before him. She twirled a stand of pin straight black hair around her finger as she placed a post-it on his desk.

"You're father called late last night. He said for you to call him in the morning."

Logan bit back a groan, "Thanks, Erin."

"Sure," she paused, "And you have meeting after lunch. 2:00."

"Alright."

She nodded, "Bye."

He waved slightly in response and picked up the post-it note, staring at the familiar number jotted down in red ink. He would think his father would now that Erin knew his number by now, he didn't need to keep reminding her. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his cellphone and quickly dialed the digits.

Mitchum answered on the second ring.

"Mitchum Huntzberger."

"Dad," Logan greeted swiftly, as his father had taught him, "You called?"

"Logan, how's the paper?"

"It's good, as usual. What do you need?"

"Can't a father just call to check up on his son?"

Logan rolled his eyes. His father couldn't.

"Sure, but that's not why you called."

"Well, aren't you sharp," Mitchum replied dryly.

"Point, please," Logan begged.

"Fine. I wanted to make sure that your secretary gave you the message about the meeting this afternoon. It's very important. I want that paper."

"I got the message. I'll do my best."

"You're best may not be good enough."

"Then I call in reinforcements. Either way, I'll do everything I can."

"Fine," Mitchum snapped, "Call me when it's over."

"Will do."

"Good. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, dad."

Logan closed his cellphone with a sigh and placed it back on his desk. Even after Logan had matured, his relationship with Mitchum had remained the same. He wasn't sure what he had to do to make this father proud of him, but he was about ready to give up. Nothing seemed to make that man happy.

- - - - - - - -

"And then Logan closed the deal and that was that," Miles recounted, grinning as he raised his glass next to Travis and Logan's, "All in all, a very successful meeting."

"Even Mitchum Huntzberger thought so," Logan agreed with a grin.

"Sorry I missed it," Travis replied, "But the piles and piles of paperwork on my desk seemed so much more interesting."

Logan laughed, "I'm sure."

"So, what's going to happen with the new paper? Are you going there?" Travis asked.

"No," Logan shook his head, "My dad is sending Keith over to take care of it. I was only in charge of acquiring it."

"Oh, good. God knows who Mitchum would've sent here to take your place."

"True," Miles's agreed.

The ringing of Logan's cellphone interrupted their conversation and he reached for it quickly. When he saw the same on the caller id, he paused for a moment in slight surprise before flipping it open.

"Hello?"

"Huntz!" Colin's voice greeted, "Guess where I am?"

Logan grinned, "America."

"Well, duh. But guess where?"

"I give."

"New Haven," Colin paused, "We're heading to The Pub tonight. Weird, huh?"

Logan's voice caught slightly, "Yeah, weird. What are you doing there?"

"Well, Finn and I decided to come in to visit some people. We're meeting Rory tonight for drinks."

Logan felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. He could almost feel the color draining from his face, and he averted his eyes to avoid the strange looks Travis and Miles were sending his way. Rory. They were going to see Rory. He took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. It wasn't that big of a deal right? So they were going to see Rory, the one person in the world he wanted to see more than anything. Rory and them had been friends, it shouldn't have come as that big of a shock to him.

"Uh...Logan?"

Colin's voice tore into his thoughts and he was forced to answer, "Oh, um, have a good time."

"You okay? I thought you two were friends."

"We are," Logan was silent for a moment, "Kind of."

"What do you mean 'kind of''?"

"We haven't talked for awhile."

"How long is awhile?" Colin demanded.

Logan ran a hand over his face, "Two months."

"What? Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's not that big of a deal. There are no hard feelings. It was just too hard. Strange, even."

"Logan..."

"Really, Colin. It's not big deal. Go, have fun."

He wasn't sure who he was truly convincing: Colin or himself. Two of his best friends were going to see the love of his life, the girl he hadn't talked to in a little over two months. They would know more about her life now in a few hours than he would. The thought of that made him feel ill. God, he missed her.

"Fine. But you should really get your ass over here and see us."

"That goes both ways, my friend."

"Yeah, I know. I'll talk to you later, Huntz."

"Bye, Colin."

Logan closed his phone and shakily placed it back on the bar. Travis and Miles were staring at him intently, and Logan was forced to raise his gaze from the floor.

"You look like Casper," Miles informed him, "Is everything okay."

Logan nodded in what he hoped was a firm matter, "Sure, everything is fine."

"You're hiding something," Travis observed.

"No, I'm not," Logan shook his head, "But I am tired. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, Logan dropped some money on the bar and walked out into the night. He knew exactly why the thought of Colin and Finn spending time with Rory was bothering him so much. It should have been him. He should be the one taking her out, listening to her, spending time with her. He should be the one she was with, not them. There was nothing he wanted more than to be back in Hartford with her, but he knew that would never happen.

Even if he did somehow end up back in the States, they had both made the decision to end their relationship for good. They couldn't rekindle it, not again. There was too much risk that he would end up leaving again, and the fact that they would not be getting back together again was made perfectly clear in the break-up phone call. They had their last chance, and it fell apart.

He walked slowly back his apartment, recalling that phone call for what seemed like the millionth time.

_"And who knows? Maybe when I get back we can--"_

_"Logan..."_

_"Sorry. I know."_

Yes, he did know, and that was the worse part. He knew that he would never be with her again. He knew that he lost a part of himself that night.


	4. Where I Am Without You

**AN: Shortish chapter. Sorry. It's probably not that exciting either, and I really don't think it's that good. But it was necessary. However, the next chapter you can look forward to something big happening. That's all I'm going to say. There will be something interesting in the next chapter. But for now, review this one! And I'll try to update soon.**

Rory stepped into The Pub, a flood of old memories overtaking her as she glanced around the college hangout. Her blue eyes seemed to take in the familiar surroundings all at once, and her breath caught sharply in her throat. All of the old scenes pounded down on her instantly, and she clutched the handle of her purse tightly, her knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white.

This was a mistake. This had to be a mistake.

And then she saw them.

Colin glanced over from the bar and made eye contact with her, a small smile pulling at his lips. He elbowed the taller man as his side and Finn whipped around, his grinning face mirroring his friend's. Rory, however, was unable to smile, let alone move towards them. She stood in the doorway, frozen, as images of disheveled blond hair and mischievous brown eyes danced through her mind.

Colin waved, and Rory took a deep breath, mustering up the strength to wave back. Slowly, she began walking over to Logan's old friends, attempting to steady her nervously pounding heart along the way.

"Rory Gilmore," Colin greeted as she neared, "Looking beautiful as always."

She forced a laugh, "Colin, you flatter me."

Finn shoved Colin out of the way slightly, and engulfed Rory in a hug, "How are you, love?"

"I'm good," she lied.

She sat down on a stool in between the two and ordered a drink from the bartender.

"So, what are you doing in Hartford?" Colin inquired, taking a drink from his beer.

"I live there," Rory explained, "Working at the Hartford Gazette, waiting for something bigger to come around. But for right now, I'm happy. What about you two?"

Finn grinned wickedly, "Oh, you know. This and that."

"I see," Rory rolled her eyes, "So, girls, alcohol, and parties?"

"Always," Colin confirmed, "But I'm also working at an Internet company, the business end."

"Really? That's great, Colin."

"And I'm working at my dad's business. Apparently I'm going to manage it someday."

Rory smiled, "I never thought I'd see the day: Finn has a job."

The three shared a short laugh, and Rory's drink arrived. She sipped it slowly, her eyes still traveling around The Pub. They landed on a table a short distance away from them, and she couldn't help the burning sensation behind her eyes. She remembered that table well.

Before her and Logan had started dating, when she still had a seemingly impossible crush on the Huntzberger heir, they had sat there. She had volunteered to lend him her notes for a story he was working on, so Doyle wouldn't self destruct. It was there that they talked and laughed for hours on end, there when she realized how deeply she could really fall for him, and there when she felt her heart break when he failed to ask her on a date.

"You okay there, Rory?" Colin's voice asked, snapping her out of the revere.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him as she turned her attention back to the boys.

"We were just saying how we didn't know you haven't talked to Logan for months."

Her heart instantly fluttered to her feet, and she struggled to find the words to reply to Colin's statement. Of course they talked to Logan. Of course they did. And it shouldn't come as any surprise that they talked to Logan about _her_, and the relationship they had. Of course they did. But as she sat there, staring blindly into her drink, that one thought wouldn't leave her mind: They talked to Logan.

"Um, yeah. It just wasn't the same," she admitted, her voice soft, and near breaking.

Finn glanced over at her, "So we've heard."

She couldn't resist finding out more, "Where is he? Is he still in London?"

"Yeah," Colin confirmed, "He's still in London."

Rory nodded slowly, her jaw clenched. There were so many things she wanted to know: Was he dating? Did he have a new girlfriend? Did he still miss her? Did he have any idea how much she still missed him? And most importantly...

"Is he happy?"

She _wanted_ him to be happy.

Colin shrugged, "He misses home. He misses us," he paused, "And he still misses _you_. You know that, right?"

"I miss him, too," Rory murmured, "What about the new paper? How's that working out?"

Finn took a drink, "He's made some friends, but he's far from thrilled about being there. Mitchum is in the States, of course, but running him ragged nonetheless."

"Good old, Mitchum," Rory muttered bitterly.

"You two should talk," Finn offered, "I thought you were going to be friends."

"We were," Rory explained, "And we tried. But it was just too hard, it was too much. We can't talk, we can't go backwards."

Colin and Finn fell silent, and Rory knew it was time to change the subject before more questions were asked. As much as she wanted to know about Logan's life, she refused to talk about herself more than necessary. As far as anyone else knew, except for maybe Lorelai, she was in love once and missed him, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

She liked it that way.

"So, what about you guys? Shrugged off your playboy ways, yet?"

Colin grinned, "Please. You underestimate us if you think we'd give up our lifestyle without a fight."

"Oh, believe me," Rory laughed, "I will never underestimate you two. So, no weddings on the horizon?"

"Not unless Finn finds out someway to make marrying beer legal: no."

The night wore on, with the three of them making small talk and avoiding the larger subject of Logan and Rory. Rory didn't want to talk about it anymore, and Colin and Finn seemed to sense that, so they let it go.

When the evening came to close, the group made their way outside and Rory shared a hug with each of the two men.

"Keep in touch now, okay?" Rory demanded, "None of this disappearing on me stuff anymore."

Finn nodded, and draped his arm over her shoulder, "Of course, love. I'll call you everyday and we can talk about the meaning of life, and alcohol."

Rory chuckled, "Works for me, Finn."

He squeezed her shoulder and took a few steps away, watching the college girls filing out of The Pub. Colin turned to Rory, his brown eyes looking more serious than she had ever seen them. He placed a gentle hand on her wrist, and she felt the tears forming before he even opened his mouth.

"You and Logan can hide a lot of things from a lot of people. And you two may have been successful with this 'I'm okay' game you've been playing so far, but it's not going to work forever. And it's most certainly not going to work on me. I've known Logan all my life, he's my best friend, and to tell you the truth, Rory, he's just not himself anymore. And you? You always had that 'I don't need anyone else but myself' theory, and it worked, until he came along. And now your scared, because you feel like you don't know where to go from here. Isn't that right?"

She nodded, choking on her tears as they slipped from her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks.

"If Logan asks, I'll tell him your happy. That's what you both want to hear, isn't it? That you're both happy?"

She nodded again, unable to speak.

"You'll be okay, Rory," he informed her, "You'll figure everything out. You're you, after all."

She offered him a small smile, and he pulled her into a hug, "Take care of yourself, okay?"

She nodded into his shoulder, "You too."

With that, the two people from her past disappeared and she was left standing outside The Pub, unsuccessfully fighting against her tears. When did Colin get so smart? When did he know more about her and Logan's relationship than her and Logan did? And when did he get so good at analyzing people?

How did he _know_?

"A_nd now your scared, because you feel like you don't know where to go from here."_

He was _so_ right. Logan had changed her, brought out a different side of her. Logan made her a more complete person. But now she felt like she wasn't totally herself, like she didn't have everything together. And if there was one feeling in the world Rory Gilmore hated more than anything, it was feeling like she didn't have everything together.

It didn't matter how much time had passed. She missed him. He had become a part of her.

With a sigh, she forced herself to walk away from The Pub and get into her car. Leaning her head against the steering wheel, she took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Just a little more time. All she needed was a little more time and she would move past this. She would be herself again.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, selecting the familiar number quickly.

She knew where she needed to go tonight.

"Hello?"

"Mom, I'm coming home."

She could almost picture Lorelai smiling softly, "I'll be waiting, kid."

She closed her phone and placed it back in her purse, before turning out on the road towards Stars Hollow. Tonight, she just needed to be home.

--------

"Hey, hun," Lorelai greeted, wrapping her daughter into a hug almost as soon as she walked through the door.

Rory held on to her mother as if for dear life, and buried her head into her shoulder, letting the tears fall freely for the second time that night.

"Hey," her mother consoled, stroking her head gently, "What happened?"

"I met Colin and Finn for drinks," Rory explained as they watched over to the couch, "And things were talked about that just hurt. A lot. Colin knew more than me or Logan ever wanted him to."

Lorelai smiled, "You'd be surprised at how observant the most unlikely people can be."

Rory nodded softly and leaned back against the couch, "Do you think we'll ever see each other again? Me and Logan?"

"I wish I could tell you. And more than anything I wish I could say yes, but I don't know, Rory."

The younger Gilmore nodded slowly, and drew her knees up against her chest, "What about you, mom? How are _you_?"

"I'm holding up. I'm considering dating again, but I'll doubt it will actually happen."

"You should," Rory encouraged, "_Really_. It'll be good for you."

"I'll try."

The two fell into a comfortable silence, and Lorelai flicked on the television and began scanning through the channels.

Rory tired to focus on the glowing images coming from the television, but her weary mind kept drifting. She liked to think that someday her and Logan would see each other again, liked to think that she would see his smiling face at least once more. But he was in London and nobody knew how long he would be staying. And after that? God only knew if he would ever enter the state of Connecticut again.

It was strange, and painful, for her to think that somebody who meant so much to her could vanish from her life that quickly. He still talked to Colin and Finn, and just that night she had sat with the two of them in a bar. And yet, that's where her connection with Logan ended.

They weren't them anymore. They were her and him. Two separate people, living two completely separate lives.

Her phone rang, and she reached for it, not surprised to see Alaina's name flash on her caller id. She told her best friend where she was going that evening, and she knew by now Alaina was probably desperate for details; many of which Rory was reluctant to give.

"Hello?" she greeted, mouthing Alaina's name to her mother when Lorelai looked over curiously.

"Hey there," Alaina replied, "How was it?"

Rory shrugged even though Alaina couldn't see her, "It was okay. It was good to see them again."

"But did you have a good time, Ror?"

"Yeah, I did. It's hard not to with them."

Rory knew she was avoiding the underlying question Alaina was asking, and she refused to acknowledge that it was there.

"So, you're holding up okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Rory lied, shifting on the couch, "I'm home right now, spending some time with my mom."

She cringed slightly, knowing that the last bit of information would tip Alaina off that something was wrong.

"You talked about Logan, didn't you?"

Rory paused, "Yeah, we did."

"And?"

"And nothing. He's still in London, he's doing well."

"Rory..."

She didn't respond.

"Rory, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Laina. Promise."

"You are such a bad lier, Gilmore," her friend said sadly, "I'll talk to you when you get back, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Laina."

"See ya."

Rory turned her phone off before placing it in her purse again. She didn't feel like dealing with anyone else tonight.

"When did everyone get so freaking observant?" she snapped bitterly, reaching for some of the chips Lorelai had placed on the coffee table.

"I blame CSI."

"Really? Because I blame Without A Trace."

"I think Law and Order had a say in it, too."

Rory had to smile as she curled up tightly, pulling a blanket down around her legs.

"So, I think this is a movie night kind of night, what do you think?" Lorelai inquired.

"Nothing romantic."

"Willy Wonka?"

"Always," Rory agreed with a grin, "There is nothing happier than oompa loompas."

"And candy."

"Who can forget the candy?"

Lorelai got up from the couch and dug through their movie selection until she found it. Rory watched her, her mood brightening as Lorelai pulled it out and tossed it on the coffee table.

"More food," Lorelai said simply, "Oh, tater tots!"

"And pizza!"

"Ice cream?"

"Of course."

The two made their way into the kitchen, Lorelai grabbing the phone as they passed and dialing out for pizza. As Rory laughed and ripped open a bag of tater tots, her heavy heart lightened even more.

And yet, even as she talked with her mother, smiling more than she had in a long time, she couldn't get Logan's face out of her mind, couldn't stop remembering Colin saying that Logan just wasn't the same anymore. But she guessed the two of them would never be quite the same. They had meant too much to each other, shared too much for all that time. A huge part of her life, and her heart, would always belong to Logan Huntzberger.

Nothing was going to change that. Nothing ever could.

There were so many things that reminded her of him, so many times when she would see something and have to stop and think about him. Everything from the aces in a deck of cards to an episode of The Twilight Zone brought back heart wrenching memories.

A glance into her old room was all it took for her eyes to land on the rocket ship, the one present that meant more to her than anything in the world. She sighed, and turned her attention back to the food.

_That's true love..._


	5. Along In The Bitterness

It was almost two weeks after Colin and Finn had met with Rory. Logan had talked to them briefly, not really wanting to hear the details. He couldn't handle listening to stories about her, couldn't handle that _they_ were the ones there, not him. At least he knew a little more about her life now. She was working as a reporter for the Hartford Gazette, and hoping for bigger things. He knew she would get them; she was so talented. Colin said that she looked the same, from her long, reddish brown waves to her crystal blue eyes. And most importantly, he knew she was happy. Colin said she was happy. And that's what Logan wanted to hear the most.

But just hearing about her made his heart ache. He knew he had to move on, and he was trying, but every time he heard her name he felt all the progress he made rapidly reversing. He knew Colin was careful not to give him too much insight on the evening, for fear of upsetting him, and for that Logan was grateful.

With a sigh, he finished up on his computer and flicked it off, anxious to get his mind of Rory with an evening with his friends.

"Hey," Travis's voice came from the doorway, "You ready to go?"

He nodded and placed a few files in his drawer, before getting up and following Travis out of the office. The three of them were meeting up with a few girls that night and Logan hoped it was exactly what he needed to get his mind off Rory.

"Are we ready for an evening of laughter and love?" Miles joked, coming up behind the other two.

Logan smirked, "Been watching Growing Pains again?"

Miles rolled his eyes in the midst of Logan and Travis's laughter as they made their way outside and starting walking towards the nearby bar. Logan half listened the conversation of his friends as they strolled, feeling himself begin to unwind just a bit. If for just one night he could forget about the way she felt in his arms, then he would consider it a good night.

"Here," Travis said, stopping in front of an newer looking, brick building, "This is the place."

Logan followed the either two inside and Miles almost instantly pointed out three stunning girls seated in a round, back booth. Miles had been on a few dates with the slim, short haired brunette who stood up as they neared. The two shared a quick kiss, and Miles quickly slipped into the booth next to her. Logan sat down next to All-American looking blond and Travis slid in on his other side. Another eye catching brunette watched them from her spot in between Miles's date and the blond.

"Logan, Travis. This is Melissa," Miles said, introducing his friends to his date.

Logan extended his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Melissa smiled and accepted the handshake, "You too."

"I'm Kate," the blond greeted, "And this is Beth."

Kate seemed to instantly take a liking to Logan, and after pushing Rory out of his head, he had to admit he didn't mind. She was pretty, with her soft, blond locks and deep, hazel eyes. When she spoke, her voice had a charming English accent. She wasn't relentlessly flirting with him, which he had to admit was a turn on.

"So, Logan Huntzberger, right?" she asked, turning her body towards him.

He nodded, "Yeah. And yes, my father is Mitchum, before you ask."

She laughed softly, "I'm guessing you get that a lot."

"Just a little. So, tell me about yourself."

"I'm in public relations, nothing big and important yet, but I'm hoping to get there someday," she smiled, "How long are you here for?"

"Probably for the rest of my existence."

He couldn't help the eye roll that came with that sentence.

"You have something against my country?" she asked with a short laugh.

"Nope," he smirked, "Just the reason why I'm here."

Unwillingly, he thoughts drifted to Rory. He couldn't help it. Every time he thought about why he was here, he thought about her. He thought about her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when he laughed. He thought about what a firecracker she was when she was angry, and how she never backed down in an argument, no matter who was involved.

He thought about how much he loved her. And missed her.

He thought about how he would probably never see her again. And even if he did, he would never again kiss her lips.

Shaking his head firmly, he cleared his mind of all thoughts of Rory and focused back on the blond sitting before him. When he grew quiet, she had turned and joined in the conversation the rest of the group was having. He liked that, simply because it proved she wasn't a needy, gold digger like the rest of the girls he met.

She was _different_.

Her eyes shifted back to him and she smiled, "Are you back now?"

"Back?" he questioned, eyebrows raised.

"From wherever you just went in your mind," she grinned, "Was it someplace fun?"

"Yeah, but I'd much rather be in Hawaii rather than just thinking about it."

She laughed, "I knew it. It's the weather in my country that you hate, isn't it?"

"Nah, the accents," he smirked again, "Except yours, yours I like."

A red blush crept up her cheeks and she smiled, averting her eyes quickly. He _liked_ this girl; she was smart, quick on her feet, not to mention beautiful. She was way beyond the average girls he'd met, she was special. For the first time since the breakup, another girl had succeeded in taking his mind of Rory for a period of time.

"You say that to all the English girls," she quipped, raising her gaze back up to him.

He titled his head slightly, "And Italians."

She laughed, "Well, now that I know what I'm competing with."

The night wore on and his conversation with Kate was anything but boring. As he continued talking to her, he realized just how smart she was. She kept up with him verbally, flirted with him just enough to be sexy, and had a pair of the most inviting eyes he'd ever seen. She wasn't Rory, no girl could _ever_ be Rory, but she was definitely something. He was interested to see where this something could end up.

He was surprised at how late it was when the group finally rose up from the table. Only then did he realized he'd barely talked to anyone but Kate the entire night. He stood next to her now, taking in her slim form tucked inside a black cocktail dress.

"Can I call you sometime?" he inquired, placing an arm around her waist.

She nodded, smiling as she jotted down the digits, "Anytime."

"So, when you get the phone call at three in the morning...?"

"I'll know it's that crazy American."

He grinned and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. He didn't want to move too fast with her, not until he found out if she was really what she seemed.

"Good night, Logan."

"Good night."

--------

Logan walked into his apartment and placed Kate's number on the counter, smiling slightly at the fact that he'd had his first successful date since his breakup with Rory. It was one of the few times he felt truly happy after coming home from a night with a girl.

But when he thought about Rory, it still hurt just as much.

With a sigh, he changed out of his work clothes in the bedroom and then came out to his living room, flicking on the television so he could half listen to it as he checked over some articles and files from the paper.

That was when his cellphone rang. He was surprised, considering the time difference from the States and the fact that he just got through with a night with his friends from the paper. He pulled out his phone, surprised to see Honor's name on the front screen. Clenching his jaw slightly, he flipped it open and balanced it in the crook of his neck.

"Hello?"

"Logan?" he voice was strained and she barely choked out his name.

He instantly grew concerned. Honor was one of the strongest people he knew, and it took a lot to make her cry. She grew stressed easily, but there was always a bubbly side to her personality that couldn't be erased. He grabbed the phone with his hand and stood up, running a hand through his blond hair.

"Honor? What's wrong? What happened?"

She wasn't able to speak and all Logan could hear was the sound of her sobbing in between short, gasping breaths. He was pacing his apartment now, his heartbeat racing as his panic rose. Endless possibilities were running through his mind from Josh leaving Honor to a hospital visit of some sort, and his heart was speeding up just a little bit more with every sob he heard through the phone.

"Honor, please calm down. Tell me what happened."

"Logan, I..." she broke off in a sob again.

Logan sighed, somewhat frustrated but mostly worried sick, "Are you okay? Did something happen to you?"

She inhaled deeply, "No, Logan you need to...it's...Logan..."

He slammed his fist against the wall, desperation to know the situation consuming him.

"Honor? Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe for me."

He heard her taking in shaky breaths, her sobbing slowly subsiding.

"Okay," he told her gently, "Can you talk now?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Okay. Then what happened? What's wrong?"

"It's dad, Logan. He had a heart attack, he..." her voice broke.

"He what? Honor?"

She was crying again, and Logan could feel his heart slowly sinking. He wouldn't allow himself to think that his father could possibly be gone. No. He was probably just in the hospital and Honor was upset. That had to be it. He was in the hospital in bad shape and the doctor's were running tests. That was all. That had to be all.

"Honor!" he practically yelled, "What happened? Is dad okay?"

"No," she forced out through tears, "Dad's gone. He's gone, Logan."

Logan felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach, and he staggered back onto the couch. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? Attempting to draw air into his lungs was practically useless, and he gasped for breath as he stared aimlessly out the window, his eyes clouding with unshed tears.

"What?" he asked shakily, hoping that he somehow heard her wrong.

"He's gone," she repeated, sobs threatening her again, "It happened a few minutes ago. There...there was nothing...they could do."

"Nothing they could do? What the hell does that mean?" he demanded, his voice rising with his body as he jumped off the couch, "It's a hospital. What the hell are they doing there if they aren't helping people?"

"Logan..."

"Damn it!"

He slammed his fist off the wall, not feeling any pain whatsoever. His entire body had gone completely numb. He felt like he was watching himself react to the situation, but he couldn't get any control over his words or actions.

Honor had broken down completely and he knew he should be comforting her, but he was barely holding on himself. His father was gone. Forever. Mitchum Huntzberger was dead. He winced, shakily walking back over to the couch and sitting down.

Logan really never thought about what it would be like when his dad passed away. He guessed he kind of thought it would never happen, that Mitchum would somehow outlive them all. But he didn't. He was gone. But why did Logan care so much? What did he feel like he was going to completely break down right there in his apartment? Why were tears beginning to stream down his cheeks? Why was his hand shaking so violently?

He had never gotten along with his father. _Ever_. Sure, they had some good days every now and then, but Logan had never had a great relationship with Mitchum. But now he was gone, and Logan realized that he never would. Not only that, but Logan had never gained the approval he had secretly always desired. Mitchum had never looked at his son and been proud.

Logan had failed him and Mitchum had failed his son right back. And now they would never get the chance to fix their broken relationship. It was all over. They couldn't go back, they couldn't change anything. Logan couldn't change anything.

His father was gone and Logan had never lived up to the person he was supposed to be. The tears were falling faster now, and he didn't even bother to wipe them away as they crashed down his cheeks. His father was dead. Gone. Forever. And Logan would never get the chance to prove him wrong, to prove that he could be the heir his father always wanted.

And Mitchum would never get the chance to be the father Logan always wanted, to be someone his son could count on. He would never get the chance to change Logan's opinion of him, to repair the relationship that had been broken since Logan was born. Logan had always held on to the slim hope that Mitchum would change, that the two of them would fix all the damage.

Now, that would never be.

"Logan?" a male voice asked, his tone gentle.

"Yeah?"

"It's Josh," Honor's husband explained, "Honor couldn't handle talking anymore."

Logan nodded, even though Josh couldn't see him, "Where are you?"

"New York, we'll be going to a hotel," Josh sighed, "So look, Logan, you're going to need to come home."

Logan nodded again, "I know. I'll get on the first flight I can."

"Good. Call me when you know what flight. We'll be here for awhile, getting all the stuff in New York...situated."

"Of course," Logan's voice broke, "Of course."

"Are you going to be okay?"

Logan sighed heavily. He needed a drink, "I don't know. How's my mom?"

"She's...not here. She left."

"What? What do you mean she _left_?"

"She couldn't handle it when they told us he...passed away," Josh explained, "She went home."

Logan's throat constricted and he forced back a sob, "I have to go. Take care of Honor until I get there, okay?"

"You got it. Hang in there, man."

"Thanks."

He closed his phone and set it on the table, before burying his head in his hands. His father was gone. No matter how many times he thought about it, it just didn't seem like it could be real. Mitchum Huntzberger couldn't die; the man was supposed to be immortal. He was supposed to be around to torture Logan's children and his children's children.

Logan furiously wiped at his eyes and stood up, walking back to the cupboards to get a drink. He poured himself a shot and took it quickly, hoping that numbness would consume him soon.

Why was he breaking down like this? He didn't even like his father. But maybe that was it. Maybe he was falling apart because he never got the chance, and now he never would. And Mitchum never got the chance to see that his son was growing up, that he was changing. Mitchum never got to see that Logan would be a good heir after all, that everything would be okay.

And was it possible that in between all the fighting that Mitchum only wanted what was best for him? He downed shot after shot after shot, waiting for his thoughts to die off. He had so much to take care of. And he knew he had to be strong, mostly for Honor, and for God help him, his mother. He would have to talk to his father's 'friends', employees, admirers, and associates. And since his grandfather had passed away a few months earlier, he was the reigning Huntzberger now. The empire was his.

But was he ready? Could he be everything Mitchum Huntzberger was? Could he live up to what his father so desperately wanted him to be? God, why didn't he listen? Why did he turn his back on everything?

But then again, why did Mitchum treat him the way he did? Logan downed another shot. Why didn't his father _love_ him? Another shot. Another. He lost track of exactly how many he drank, but soon he was stumbling off to his bedroom as if in a daze.

He collapsed on his bed, almost laughing bitterly at the twist his evening had taken. He'd started off being on top of the world, and now he felt like he was falling off of it. He had to be strong. He _had_ to be. When he got to New York, there couldn't be any tears lurking in his brown eyes. He had to handle the situation. It was all up to him.

_Home_. He was finally going home. Ironically, now, he wished he wasn't. He wished he could stay in England forever, and never have to hear that his father was gone. His father was gone.

Mitchum Huntzberger was dead. And Logan? To Mitchum, Logan would forever be a failure.


	6. Just Hold On

**AN: Happy Holidays, everyone! I've been in the writing mood lately, in case you haven't noticed, so I decided to get one more chapter out before Christmas. So, here it is. I hope you like it. Please leave a review!**

"Are you sure you have everything under control?" Logan asked again, massaging his temples in an attempt to free himself of the headache his hangover had so kindly provided.

"Logan, everything is fine. Get on the plane," Travis's calm voice assured him through the telephone.

"I don't want to leave if everything isn't—"

"Hey," Travis interrupted, "Go home, take care of your family, okay?"

Logan exhaled, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that."

"Everything is fine here, I promise. Miles and I will handle everything. You have enough on your mind, don't worry about the paper."

What Travis didn't understand was how much Logan _wanted _to worry about the paper. More than anything, he wanted to worry about something as trivial and unimportant as the paper. He didn't want to think about funeral arrangements, wills, and taking care of his broken family. He wanted to worry about the damn paper.

"Logan? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Logan replied, but his voice was tight.

"Hey," Travis comforted, "Is there anything else we can do? Anything at all?"

"No, man, thanks. You've done more than enough."

"Okay. But if you think of anything, you know where to reach me."

"Yeah."

"And hey, take care of yourself a little, too, okay?"

"I'll try."

"Get on your plane, Logan."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Trav."

"No problem."

He closed his phone and boarded the plane; the plane that would take him home. Not only was his head pounding from the hangover, but he felt like he was living in a fog. He found it impossible to wrap his mind around everything, impossible to imagine that when he arrived home, his father wouldn't be there.

God, he had so much to take care of, so much to do. He had talked to Josh again briefly to let him know what flight he was taking. Josh seemed to be handling everything okay for now, but he would have to return to work that day, and it would be up to Logan to keep Honor and his mother on their feet. According to Josh, Honor was quiet, resigned, and hardly talking to anyone. She wasn't much help with arrangements, because she couldn't look at anything that reminded her of Mitchum without bursting into tears. Shira had retreated home and hadn't been heard from since. A maid had called shortly after she arrived to let Honor know she was okay, but that was all the contact any of them had.

He sighed as he sat down, a mental list of things he had to take care of running through his brain. As soon as he got home he would have to get the funeral arrangements finished, then deal with the lawyers about his father's will, after that came a meeting with his dad's second in command, Keith, to figure out how Logan was going to handle taking over the Huntzberger empire, and through all of that he would have to take care of his family, read sympathy cards, and take at least ten thousand phone calls from people who barely knew Mitchum but liked to pretend they did.

He'd put a mind block on any of his emotions as soon as he woke up that morning. He had to be the strong one, he didn't have a choice. He couldn't break down, he had to be everyone's rock. Without him, his family and the company his father had built would crumble. He didn't have time to cry, he couldn't.

He had to become his father and nothing scared him more than that. He had to become what he always despised, had to throw away all emotions he might feel and keep his mouth set in a straight line. He had business to take care of and companies to run. No longer would he have time for nights out with his friends and casual lunches away from the office. No, it was time for him to finally grow up.

Tears built up behind his eyes, but he forced them to remain there. He had to become what his father always wanted him to be, and what Logan was never able to become while his father was alive. Logan had to be the success Mitchum always wanted, not the failure he lived to see.

Logan closed his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep, but willing to give it a try anyway. He had a massive hangover and he silently cursed himself for drinking so much the night before. But then again, he'd needed every last shot, he was sure of that. Hell, he probably needed more than he actually took.

"Excuse me, sir, do you need anything?"

Logan glanced up at the flight attendant and shook his head, all the while thinking that yeah, he could use a new life if they had one sitting around somewhere.

He found it increasingly hard to believe that in several hours he would be in New York City. How many days and nights had he spent wishing he could go home? And now he was. He was going home. But it wasn't going to the homecoming he dreamed about, no, it would be the polar opposite. He wouldn't be debating about whether or not to call Rory, he would be debating about which business calls filled with mostly fake sympathy were absolutely necessary to take.

He stared aimlessly out the window, willing the plane to move slower so the events in his life wouldn't have to be real, so he wouldn't have to comfort his sobbing sister while pretending to be strong, so he wouldn't have to think about how he failed his father and everything Mitchum had worked so hard for.

Sighing again, he leaned back and tried once more to fall asleep. He knew he would need all his energy once the plane landed, because he would have more than enough to keep him occupied for unrested hours on end. After all, he was going to the city that never sleeps. It seemed fitting, didn't it?

--------

"Honor?"

He opened the door to the hotel room to find his sister sitting on one of the beds, staring off into space. At first, her brown eyes appeared to be emotionless, but as he neared her, he could see the silent tears falling down her cheeks. Clenching his jaw, he placed his bags on the ground and slowly walked towards her. She didn't even glance up as he sat down beside her, and he wondered if she even realized his was there.

Exhaling slowly, he reached out and placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. And that was all it took. She collapsed against him and he brought his other arm around her, holding her tight as sobs shook her body. He remained still, his chin resting on top of his head and tears burning against his own pair of chocolate brown eyes. But he refused to cry. He was home now. It was time for him to be her rock.

"We hated him," Honor whispered in between sobs, "I was _afraid_ of him. And now he's gone."

"Hey," Logan soothed, rubbing her back gently, "Take it easy."

"It's just...We just...We never got the chance to really _know _him."

Logan sighed, "I know, but that's just the way things go."

Her sobs slowly subsided and Logan slid down off the bed, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his.

"We're going to get through this, okay? I promise."

She nodded slowly.

"There you go," he encouraged, forcing himself to smile slightly, "Now, why don't you try and get some sleep? I'm going to have to head over to the office and take care of things there so we can get out of the city and go home. Okay?"

She nodded again, attempting not to cry, but the tears slid down her cheeks anyway. He reached up and wiped them away, getting back up on the bed so he could pull her into another hug.

"I'm home now, okay?" he murmured, "I'm sorry I wasn't here when it happened. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Get some sleep. I'll be back soon."

He pulled down the covers and she slid into bed. He stood over her for a minute, watching as she quickly drifted off to sleep. The pain ripped at his heart as he studied her, tear stains covering her pale cheeks. He knew seeing his sister would have an affect on him, but he didn't know how much until he held her sobbing in his arms.

--------

Logan entered his father's New York office only to be bombarded instantly with fifty different people who 'only wanted to help'. There were greetings of sympathy, offerings to help him get everything together, and cups of coffee thrown in his direction. Of course, he knew all this was coming, but that didn't stop him from wanting to punch every single person who got in his way.

"Do you need any help, Mr. Huntzberger?" a man around thirty inquired, holding out a mug of coffee.

"His office is that way," a pretty secretary told him, pointing down the hall.

After awhile, they all seemed to run together.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"I'm so sorry about your father."

"He'll be greatly missed."

"How are you holding up? Do you need anything?"

Logan felt like he was losing his mind, until finally one voice rose above the rest.

"Would you leave the kid the hell alone? Dear God, you people are like vultures."

As silence consumed the room, Logan found the person who had halted the stampede. He was tall, around forty, with kind blue eyes which at present were shooting daggers at the collection of people surrounding Logan. As they slowly filed away, Logan walked over and accepted the man's outstretched hand.

"I'm Alex, and believe me, I'm going to be your best friend."

Logan smiled slightly, "You are already."

Alex nodded, his eyes growing sad, "Your father was a good friend of mine, I'm going to miss him. His office is just down the hall. And seriously, if you need anything, just let me know."

"Thank you."

"And Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Logan swallowed hard, "Thank you."

He turned down the hall towards Mitchum's office, avoiding the sad and curious gazes of the employees. Once inside, he leaned heavily against the closed door and forced back the tears. He couldn't cry. He couldn't, _especially_ not here. Once had composed himself, he took a step into the office, glad to see that boxes were already waiting to be packed.

He didn't even know where to begin.

He was just planning to pack everything up here, and organizing it once he was home and Ketih flew in. But now that he was here, standing in Mitchum's office and looking at what was his father's life, he didn't even know what to pick up first.

He walked over to his father's filing cabinets and opened the drawers one by one, emptying each and ever file into a box. He was amazed at how much his father had collected over the years and suddenly he knew why Mitchum spent more time at the office than he did at home.

Once he finished with the filing cabinets, he made his way over to Mitchum's overly large desk. The surface was covered with papers and files, more than any man should ever have to handle. Logan's throat constricted as he stared at the unfinished work on his father's desk, just sitting there like Mitchum was going to come back and complete it later. Shaking his head slightly, he forced himself to place every file and paper in it's proper place in the boxes.

There was no time for emotions.

But as he was digging through the drawers of his father's desk, he saw something that nearly made him break down right then and there. Tucked beneath piles of staples and post-it notes, was something Logan never expected to see. Not here.

It was a picture of himself and his sister when they were little, probably when Logan was just turning five. They were sitting on the floor of their living room and Honor had her arm slung around his shoulders. Logan was grinning up at her and Honor's twinkling, brown eyes were staring straight at the camera.

He sank down in his father's chair, his throat and eyes burning with unshed tears. He couldn't cry. He couldn't cry. He couldn't cry. Why the hell did his father have this picture? Why did he have to find it now, with no warning at all? And God, why couldn't his father show this side of himself while he was alive? Why the hell was Mitchum Huntzberger so afraid to show that he freaking cared?

And why wasn't Logan ever good enough for him?

He tucked the picture safely away in his wallet, still swallowing hard to avoid the tears that threatened. For all the insults, backhanded comments, and nicknames he had given his father along the years, he never thought it would be this hard to say goodbye. But it was. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

And now? Now he had a job to do. He had to be Mitchum Huntzberger, it was his duty to his father's legacy and his family. He was Mitchum Huntzberger.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he quickly wiped at his damp eyes. Strong. Strong. Strong.

"Yeah?" he called.

"Logan, there's people here to see you," Alex's voice answered.

"I don't want to see anyone."

"They say they're your friends?"

His friends? Who was here? Oh, what the hell.

Logan stood up, "Send them in."

A few seconds later, the two opened and Logan was suddenly staring at his past. It took him a few seconds to process that Colin and Finn were standing in his father's office, having come to New York City just to see him.

"Hey, buddy," Colin greeted, his voice soft, "You hanging in there okay?"

Logan's throat was so tight that he couldn't speak, so he simply nodded in return. Colin shook his head slightly and walked over to his best friend, pulling him into a hug. Logan embraced him in return, happy to have somebody to lean on if even for a second. However, he would never show exactly how much he was going through. That was for him to know, nobody else.

He was the strong one.

When they pulled apart, Logan stared at his two friends in amazement.

"How did you? When...? How?"

Finn grinned sadly, "It's me and Colin, Logan, there are no explanations," he paused, "So, come on, mate, what do you need?"

Logan was silent for a moment, "Actually, it would be great if one of you could go back to the hotel and sit with Honor. She's sleeping now, but I don't feel right leaving her there alone."

Finn nodded, "Of course. What hotel?"

Logan quickly jotted down the name of the hotel and handed it to Finn, "Thanks."

"Anytime, mate."

Once Finn was out the door, Colin nodded towards the boxes, "I'm guessing these need to get...?"

"Back the hotel somehow," Logan finished.

"Right. Well, then I guess it's a good thing I took the limo, right? Let's get these outside."

--------

Around an hour later, Colin and Logan sat in the back of the limo, boxes surrounding them on all sides.

"What else?" Colin asked.

Logan turned to him, "What else what?"

"What else do you need? What else?"

"You've done more than enough already, believe me."

"Logan..."

"Really, Colin, there's not much else you can do. I have to meet with Keith and sort this all out, take care of the funeral arrangements, and so on and so forth."

Colin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay."

"Logan," Colin responded, "How are you _doing_?"

Logan refused to show weakness. Mitchum never showed weakness. As far as anyone knew, Mitchum Huntzberger didn't have any weaknesses. So, his son shouldn't have any weaknesses either.

"It's hard, but I'm making it. Honor's taking it all pretty bad."

"Just Honor, huh?" Colin inquired, showing that he knew better than to believe his best friend's words.

Logan nodded slowly and turned away, focusing his eyes at the window as the limo pulled out onto the city streets.

"Look, why don't I take these boxes back to Hartford for you? I have my dad's plane so it will be a lot easier."

Logan nodded, "That would be great, actually."

"Where do you want them?"

"Um," Logan ran his hand over his forehead, "Do you know where my new Hartford apartment is?"

"Yeah. I was there once or twice checking on things for you."

"Right. Okay. Take them there. I don't want Honor and my mom to have to see any of that."

"You got it," Colin said as the car pulled to a stop.

Logan moved to get out, but Colin grabbed his wrist, "Don't forget to take care of _yourself_, okay? And if you need anything, anything at all, that's what I'm here for."

"Thank you."

"Call me when you get to Connecticut. When are you flying in?"

"Probably tomorrow morning."

"Okay. Don't forget to call."

"I won't."

"Send Finn down, would you?"

Logan nodded and offered Colin a small smile, before shutting the door and heading up to the hotel room.

--------

He sat on the edge of the bed, silent tears streaming down his cheeks and landing on the old picture he held in his palm. He had to stop this. He had to stop crying. He had to be the strong one.

He had to Mitchum Huntzberger now, right?

The ringing of his cellphone invaded the quiet hotel room and he grabbed it quickly before it could wake his sleeping sister. Without glancing at the caller id, he flipped it open and pressed to his ear, clearing his throat before answering.

"Hello?"

"Logan..."

He was sure his heart stopped beating for a second. And he found in incredibly hard to breath as the sound of the caller echoed through his mind.

"Ace?"


	7. All I Need Is You

**AN: I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter. I just hope you guys like it better than I do. In case I don't update before New Years, have a great one. Review, please!**

"Ace?"

"Yeah, it's me."

She sank down on her couch, squeezing her eyes shut as the warm sound of his voice washed over her. She savored it, losing herself in it for a few moments, before forcing herself back into reality. His father had died, that was the only reason she was calling: to comfort him because she knew he needed it, whether he would admit it or not.

"I heard about your dad," she continued, her voice low, "I just wanted to call and see how you were holding up."

Of course, she already had an idea about how he would be holding up. She'd seen her dad go through his father's death, and she knew Logan would feel the same inner conflict and devastation that he had.

"I'm hanging in there," he told her, his voice shaky, "I have a lot to take care of."

"I'm sure."

Silence consumed them, and she had to admit she was unsure where to go from there. She knew he wouldn't open up, not right away, not to anyone. That was just Logan. He was strong, but not quite as strong as he liked everyone to believe. She couldn't even imagine what he was feeling at that moment, but she knew if she'd been the one in pain, he wouldn't have hesitated to pick up the phone.

"Ace..."

The word was soft, pained, and she could hear the strain in his voice as he whispered. The sound brought tears to her own eyes. She couldn't stand knowing he was in so much pain, and there was really nothing she could do.

"I shouldn't miss him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "We never got along. He was an ass. He was an ass to me, to my sister, to you...to everyone."

"He was still your father, Logan, of course you miss him."

"I never got the chance..." he let his voice fade.

"To know him?" Rory offered.

He didn't reply, but she knew he was nodding on the other end of the line. She sighed, blinking back her tears as she stared at the floor. She just wanted to be near him, to hug him, to offer him a drink and help numb his pain. Her heart broke with every word he said, or every long, sad pause that came through the receiver.

"I was never who he wanted me to be," Logan admitted, "I never lived up to--"

"Logan, no," she interrupted, "Don't say things like that. You did an amazing job in London, he knew that. You grew up right before his eyes. He was proud of you."

"No, he wasn't," Logan replied, his tone taking a hard edge.

"You've done great things and—"

"And now it's time for me to grow up," Logan finished, "It's time for me to be who he always wanted me to be. It's time. I just wish I would've seen it before..."

"Logan--"

"I have to go," he interjected, his words rushed, "I'll be back in Connecticut tomorrow. Can I see you? I really nee--want to see you."

"Of course. I want to see you, too."

"I'll call you."

"Okay," she paused, "Hang in there, Logan."

"Bye, Ace."

She closed her phone, finding it hard to believe that she'd really just had a conversation with Logan. She honestly seriously doubted that they would ever speak again, but when she'd heard about his dad, she knew she had to contact him. They had both always been so good at reading each other, and she knew the number of people he would have to turn to were limited. Usually, he would have Honor, but she knew his sister would be taking their father's passing hard as well. She knew Colin and Finn were at his side almost instantly, but she always knew that Logan hated looking vulnerable in front of his friends. That left her. And she was more than happy to be there for him.

All it took was one word from him for her to hear how broken he truly was. She hated that he was doubting who he was, and the things he had accomplished. It wasn't fair. He was such an incredible person: kind, full of life, smart, and hard working when he put his mind to it. She knew it was impossible for his father not to see that at the end. She just wished Logan could understand that. But no, he felt like nothing but a failure. He was tearing himself apart because his father never showed him any pride, or affection. She bit her lip slightly, standing up and walking to the window of her apartment. Why couldn't Logan see how much he had accomplished? He had changed so much, he had grown up _so_ much.

She couldn't even begin to imagine everything that Logan was going through. He had given her a little peek, and she wondered if that was all she was going to get. But she knew when she saw him, when she looked into his emotion filled chocolate eyes, she would see everything. She knew him too well not to. She hoped he would open up to her, but there were no guarantees. More than anything, she hoped he wouldn't let this break him completely. Logan put up the facade of being so strong, but when it came to his father, he was always secretly vulnerable. She knew that, _she_ could see that. Despite all his backhanded, sarcastic comments and insults, he had always wanted the approval of Mitchum Huntzberger. And now, in his mind, he would never have that.

But God, just talking to him again had nearly broken _her_ heart. She missed him so much. Tomorrow. She couldn't believe that she would be seeing him tomorrow. After two months of not speaking, they were suddenly getting thrown together again. He would need her, she knew that, and there was nothing she would rather do than be there for him.

She just hoped she knew what to say to help him through this.

She released her breath slowly and pulled out her phone again, quickly selecting her mother's number. A few rings later, Lorelai's bubbly voice came through the phone.

"Hey, kid!"

"Hey."

"Oh, no, you have the voice. What's up?"

"The voice?"

"You know, the 'Mommy, I have a problem and your the only one who can fix it' voice."

"I do not have a voice like that."

"You do so, and I have to say, it makes me feel loved. So spill."

Rory took a deep breath, "Logan's dad died."

"Oh, no..."

"I called him."

"Wow," Lorelai paused, "How is he?"

"He's taking it pretty hard, you know, like dad did. Logan and Mitchum had a horrible relationship."

"I kind of got that impression, yes."

Rory ran a hand over her forehead, "I just don't want this to break him. I'm seeing him tomorrow."

"What?"

"He's going to be here taking care of things, and he asked to see me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We agreed to be friends," Rory reminded her, "And he needs me right now. I can't turn my back on him."

"I know," Lorelai was silent for a moment, "Believe me, I know."

"I'm just so worried about him, you know? He feels like he failed his father and I _hate_ that he thinks that. Just because Mitchum never grew a heart and decided to let Logan know he was doing a good job doesn't mean that he didn't," Rory said, her voice growing harsh towards the last sentence.

"I'd be a _bit_ more sympathetic than that tomorrow."

"I know, I will. I just hate that Mitchum never appreciated how much Logan grew up in London. I _hate _that."

"I know you do, kid, but that doesn't change what Logan feels like."

"I know," Rory released her breath slowly, "I think I'm going to get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Night, kid. And tell Logan I'm sorry about his dad."

"I will. Good night."

Rory closed her phone and walked to her bedroom, thoughts of Logan consuming her mind. She kept imagining seeing him again. How would it feel to look into his eyes? To see his disheveled blond hair walking her way? She knew he wouldn't be the quite the Logan she remembered. He would be very, very different. Just by the sound of his voice she could tell he was practically falling apart.

She just hoped she could keep it together long enough to help him.

--------

"You look beat," Brad observed the next morning, handing her a mug of coffee.

"I couldn't fall asleep last night."

Brad raised his eyebrows, "Any particular reason why?"

"One of my friends had a death in his family," she explained, releasing her breath slowly as she finished with the half truth.

"Is he okay?"

Rory paused, "I hope so."

"Okay. Well," Brad offered her a small smile, "I'll leave you to your work."

"Thanks for the coffee."

"My pleasure."

He left and Rory turned to her computer, attempting to focus on her work but finding the effort completely useless. All she could think about was seeing Logan that day, and every time the thought entered her mind she was sure her heart was going to pound out of her chest. _Logan._ How much time had she spent thinking about him over the past two months? She smirked slightly, _probably two months. _She wanted to be his support system; she wanted to be able to stay strong for him. But what if she couldn't be everything he needed? They had always been so comfortable around each other, always able to know what the other one needed most.

What if they had lost that?

"And nobody in his family will talk to any members of the media. It's ridiculous!"

Rory's head snapped up at the sound of Joe Lawrence's voice. The reporter stopped right in front of Rory's desk, ranting to one of his friends. His hands were placed firmly on his hips his glared around the newsroom as if his problems were all their fault.

"Just because they are who they are doesn't mean they can avoid everyone," Joe paused, breathing deeply before continuing, "Especially us! Mitchum Huntzberger lived here, for God sakes. They owe us _something_. But no, the great and powerful Huntzbergers are too good for that. I called his good for nothing son five times today and he has refused to speak to me."

"Hey!" Rory's sharp voice surprised even herself, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe his family is mourning right now and taking care of business? Did it ever occur to you that maybe they don't have time for the likes of you and your stupid story?"

"Stay out of this, Gilmore. I know it's a difficult time for all of them," he rolled his eyes at his last sarcastic statement, "But I just wanted a quote of two from that son of his."

Rory stood up, walking around her desk and challenging the other reporter as she stalked towards him, "That son of his has a lot of things on his mind right now, and he doesn't need a sleazy reporter bugging the hell out of him on top of it all. God, have a little sympathy."

"For what? It's no secret that Mitchum Huntzberger was a horrible human being. And his son practically hated him. That's not a secret either What the hell is he mourning? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to make _another_ phone call to the lovely Huntzbergers."

By this time, practically the entire newsroom had their eyes on the two. Joe's friend had backed away, leaving the two standing in front of Rory's desk, sparks shooting from both their eyes.

"You don't know anything about what that family is going through right now. So I suggest you calm down and leave them the hell alone, before Logan slaps you with a harassment lawsuit so big your head spins."

"Why the hell do you care so much, Gilmore? You never seemed to care when I bugged other people for quotes. Is there something your not telling us? Have a little _personal_ connection with Logan Huntzberger?"

She backed up slightly in shock at Joe's last insinuation. Her hands were practically shaking in fury as she stood before him, holding her head high so as not to give him the satisfaction of backing down.

"Just leave them alone."

"You know, I don't think I will. This is a big story, Gilmore, and they have to talk."

"He's not going to talk to you," she informed him, "_Especially_ not after you called him five times and it's only nine in the morning."

"And you know this for a fact?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, then maybe the next time you and Huntzberger junior are screwing each other, _you_ can ask him for a quote."

"How dare you! God, no wonder Logan won't talk to you. I wouldn't talk to you either. You are such a self centered asshole. I can't believe you even--"

Someone grabbed her arms from behind and forced her to cut off her rant.

"Rory," Brad's calm voice murmured in her ear, "Calm down."

"Let go of me."

"Rory."

He pulled her backwards and she fought him for awhile, holding eye contact with Joe the entire time. His lips had curled upward into a sneer, and she resisted the urge to slap him in the face as he turned away and began mocking their argument with his friends.

Brad led her into the break room and closed the door. He pulled out a chair and she collapsed onto it, burying her head in her hands as tears of frustration and anger overtook her. They slid down her cheeks silently. Brad sat down beside her, resting a gentle hand on her back. A few moments later, the door opened and Rory lifted her head to see Alaina entering the room. Her best friend closed and locked the door behind her. She tossed Rory a water a bottle of water from the fridge, and Rory accepted it gratefully.

"So, the guy who had a death in his family was--"

Rory cut Brad off, "Logan."

"Right."

"I can't believe him! God, Logan is having enough trouble dealing with this without being annoyed by Joe about a stupid story. Doesn't he have a heart?"

"Rory," Alaina sat down and placed a gentle hand on her arm, "Not that I commend Joe calling Logan five times before nine, but reporters do things like that all the time..."

"His father just died!" Rory argued.

But in the back of her mind, she knew Alaina was right. Even though Joe had pushed getting the story to the extreme, somewhere deep down she knew that it wouldn't have bothered her so much had it been any other family. But this was Logan. She'd listened to him fight back tears just the night before, she knew how hard he was taking Mitchum's death, and she couldn't stand that he couldn't get some peace and quiet from the paper _she_ worked at.

"Rory..." Brad began.

"I know," she stopped him, "I know. It's just, I know him and I just talked to him. He's so upset and I hate that he has to deal with Joe on top of it all and..."

"Hey, breathe, okay?" Brad pulled her into a hug, "We understand. And believe me, I sure didn't mind seeing Joe put in his place for once."

Alaina smiled, "I second that."

"Just stay in here and calm down for awhile. We'll make sure Joe is nowhere within a fifty foot radius of your desk, okay?"

She nodded slowly and her two friends walked out of the break room. She took a long sip of her water, trying in vain to calm her nerves. Her phone rang and she reached for it, staring at the caller id for a second before flipping it open.

"Hey," she greeted, "How are you?"

"Swamped," Logan replied, "And you work at the most annoying newspaper in the history of the world."

She cringed, "I'm so sorry about that, Logan. You have no idea."

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"Yeah, but I still have to apologize for working here and breathing the same air as Joe Lawrence."

He chuckled sadly, "Apology accepted. So listen, do you want to come to my apartment tonight?"

"Of course."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, actually, I do."

"Good," he paused, his voice growing softer, "Thank you, Ace."

She furrowed her brow, "For what?"

"For calling."

"Logan, of course I called."

"Just..." his voice trailed off, "I'll see you tonight, okay? Seven?"

"Okay."

She closed her phone and leaned back in her chair, still not completely over the fact that her and Logan were talking again. He didn't sound any better than the night before, and she could hardly wait to hug him and try to take away some of his pain. He sounded like he hadn't slept since he heard the news. He sounded like he _needed_ her.

She was seeing Logan Huntzberger that the night. She was going to Logan's apartment _that_ night. Oh, how quickly life could change. She just wished a tragedy didn't have to occur to bring them together again.


	8. He Fades Away

Logan sat quietly in his apartment, listening to the sounds of the outdoors as they floated into through the glass in his windows and circled around the room. His eyes were scratchy, but the tears had dried. Now, he was numb. The sharp, stabbing pain had faded, and now he simply felt defeated, worn down, and...old.

Keith had left a few minutes before, and although they still had work to do, they had managed to organize most of Mitchum's files and discussed Logan's future role as head of the Huntzberger Publishing Group. Keith would take over for now, while Logan took care of his family and father's funeral, and then Keith would help him along until he felt ready to handle it on his own.

He wasn't sure if he would ever feel ready.

As for his family, well, he was trying desperately to hold them to together while everything was falling apart. Honor went home to rest some more, and try to talk to Shira. That was, of course, until they found out Shira checked into a spa to 'clear her head'. A part of him didn't blame her too much, but most of him was furious. She was their mother, she should be there for them. Maybe not him so much, but at least Honor.

He dropped his head into his hands, breathing deeply and ignoring the heavy feeling on his eyelids. He hadn't slept since coming to the states, partly because he hardly got the chance, and partly because when he did, his mind was too crowded to relax. He had responsibility now, and it came a lot sooner than he ever expected.

Tomorrow was the funeral, and he wasn't sure he would be able to handle it. He didn't even want to think about it, to be honest. Most of the people who would show up barely knew his father, and the other half most likely hated him.

He felt sick.

And then he thought of her. _Rory_.

Just the sound of name made the weight on his shoulders a little bit lighter.

He wasn't shocked that she called. After all, he would've done the same for her in a heartbeat. He realized as soon as he heard her voice that she was the one he'd needed since he heard the news. She got him, she always had. She saw things in him that nobody else could, and that nobody else ever would.

But she wouldn't know him anymore, not like she used to. He wasn't the same Logan Huntzberger she had dated, he hadn't been that Logan since the fateful phone call that informed him that he had to change. Would she still care about him now? Was he worth caring about anymore, now that he was his father? Would people come to _his_ funeral offering _fake_ sympathy?

He ran a hand over his face, attempting in vain to clear his clouded mind. Everything was so screwed up. For Honor, his family, and the good of the company his father reigned over, Logan had put on a brave face and turned into the person he never wanted to be. He always said he wouldn't turn into an unfeeling person, someone who didn't need anyone but himself and his work. But suddenly, he realized that was exactly what he had to do. That's what would make him successful, what would have made Mitchum proud if his father was still alive.

He was determined to do something that would have made his father proud, even if it was too late for him to see it.

The ringing of his cellphone tore him away from his thoughts, and he snatched it up quickly.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Honor's soft voice came through the receiver, "Mom came back."

"How is she?"

"Withdrawn," Honor's voice changed to slightly annoyed, "But she's still found the time to talk about money at least three times since she got home."

"Classic Shira," Logan sighed, "How are you holding up?"

"I'm better, I guess. I'm getting used to the fact that I miss him."

"Do you need anything?"

"Logan, you've done more than enough, for everyone. Do _you _need anything?"

Logan shook his head firmly, even though Honor couldn't see him, "I'm fine."

The line fell quiet, and Logan ran a hand through his hair. He knew she was thinking about the overwhelming situation, and he also knew it was only a matter of time before she decided to confide in her brother.

"Do you think..." her tight voice trailed off.

"Yeah?" he encouraged.

"Do you think that he loved us?

Logan was silent. He reached for his wallet and flipped it up, slowly extracting the picture from its leathery grip. The tears built behind his now stony brown eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke.

"Of course he did," Logan responded, and then continued with a new sense of understanding, "He was just dedicated. He knew what he had to do to be who he was."

"I just wish..." she let her voice fade again, but this time Logan didn't have to prompt her to continue.

"I know."

"Mom's wants me," Honor cleared her throat, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Do you want to come stay here tonight?"

Honor released her breath slowly, "I better stay here."

"I can come stay with her, you know."

Logan made the offer, but he silently hoped his sister would reject it. He had more than enough to handle already, and he wasn't sure if he could put up with his mother on top of it all.

"No. I've got it. Bye, Logan."

"Bye."

He clamped his cellphone closed, and then hastily shoved the picture back in his wallet. He would keep it hidden, from everyone, just as his father had for all those years. A quick glance at his wall was all it took for him to see that Rory would be arriving shortly. The heavy air in the room seemed to lift ever so slightly, and he couldn't ignore the anxious feeling that swept over him for a few moments.

_Ace_.

He knew they had missed their chance, and that nothing could happen between them, especially not now. He didn't want to hurt anyone the way Mitchum had hurt him. Rory deserved so much more than him. Even so, the only person he really wanted to see was her, the only person he wanted to see him was her. A relationship? Impossible. But she was still Rory, and that was enough for him.

He turned towards the door as a knock echoed through the apartment, and his eyes studied the wooden barrier for a moment, before he walked over and placed his hand on the knob. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it open.

When he saw her, he was sure his heart stopped.

She was standing before him, her blue eyes as deep and beautiful as ever. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and her soft lips turned upwards slightly in silent greeting. One hand clutched a paper bag, and she used the other to run her fingers through her wavy, redish brown hair.

"Logan," she murmured, her eyes finding their way to her feet.

"Hi," he smiled sadly, and motioned inside, "Come in."

She shook her head slightly and reached out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. She smelled wonderful: like vanilla, like flowers, like Ace. She smelled like home. He held back the wetness in his eyes as he pulled her close, resting his head lightly against her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear, "I wish there was something I could do."

"There is something you can do," he stepped away from her, blinking his eyes rapidly, "Come in, Ace. Have a seat."

He resisted the urge to place his hand on the small of her back as they walked into the apartment, and he practically had to hold his arm down to keep it from slipping around her shoulders as they sunk into his couch. She reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of scotch, followed by two glasses.

She smiled that amazing, soft, _Rory_ smile, "I thought you could use it."

"I'm not complaining."

She nodded and poured the liquid into his glasses. He raised it to his lips and took it, savoring the feeling as the alcohol ran down his throat. He could hardly wait until he was numb. But for now, he wanted to focus on Rory.

"Logan."

He glanced up, and his breath caught in his throat. She was staring at him like she could see everything he was feeling with just once glance. Her eyes seemed to be filled with all the pain he was feeling, and he nearly jumped when her fingers laced themselves with his.

"Talk to me, Logan," she encouraged.

"I don't know what to say. There's a lot of I wishes: I wish I would've known him better, I wish he would've bothered with me, I wish I could've done something to make him proud, I wish he could see who I'm going to become, what I'm going to do."

"You made him proud," she said, her voice low, "You achieved so much. You grew up so much. I saw that, he saw that. Even if he never told you, he saw that, it was impossible not to."

Logan paused, "It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, and it was way too late. I was never the heir he wanted, the heir his company deserved. And God knows, I wasn't the son he wanted. Now, it's too late for him to see that I can be that son. I can be him."

"You're you, Logan, that's more than enough for everyone. Don't doubt yourself, it hurts me to hear you doubt yourself. You are, and are going to continued to be, amazing. Do you hear me?"

He let her words wash over him, and then he shrugged them off. Maybe she didn't know him as well as he thought she did, because she didn't understand. She didn't see that he wasn't able to prove to Mitchum that he was capable, his father died without knowing that his empire was in good hands.

It was all up to him now. Didn't she see that? It was all up to him to become a man, to become Mitchum, and to take over the publishing group and help it to continue to grow and thrive.

He gulped down more scotch. Numb sounded fantastic right about now.

"Logan," she squeezed his hand, "It's okay to cry, you know, to feel, to scream. Whatever you need to do, do it."

No. It wasn't okay. Why the hell didn't she see that it wasn't okay? He couldn't cry, he couldn't do anything but stay strong. Everyone was counting on him. His family was counting on him, Keith was counting on him, his father's entire company was counting on him. Who knew how many people stemming from that were counting on him? He didn't have time to cry, to scream. Did she see that he had to be his father? To get through this he had to be his freaking father.

"I'll be fine, Ace."

"I know you better than that."

"Obviously, you don't."

His words came out sharper than he intended, and he instantly regretted them. But when he glanced up, there wasn't an ounce of hurt or anger in her crystal eyes. She was simply watching him intently as she raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. They didn't break eye contact as she returned the glasses to the container, and shifted her body towards him.

"You did not let him down," she said firmly, "You were your own person, Logan, you lived life the way you wanted to live it. You had fun while you could, and you became a businessman when it was time. You found a good mix, and you were not only a great person but a fantastic son and a good worker."

"Rory, please..."

"No. I'm not finished. You need to let yourself feel something. You can't sit there and tell me your holding yourself together just fine, when it's damn near impossible for that to be true."

"Hey," he pulled his hand from her grip, "I am holding myself together just fine, and you are in no position to tell me that I'm not. People are looking at me to make a hell of a lot of big decisions, and now is my time to make my father proud because I know I never did before. It is what it is, Rory, leave it alone."

She placed her hands in her lap as he downed the rest of his scotch and poured another glass.

"Let's talk about you."

She started, "What? Logan."

"I want to talk about you, okay? Please?"

"Fine," she relented, "What do you want to know?"

"How's your job? Do you like it?"

"I love it, but I want bigger and better things," she smiled slightly, "But you knew that already."

"You'll get them."

"We'll see," she curled her legs up on the couch.

"How's your mom?"

"She's okay. Luke and my dad are both out of the picture completely. She's single, and not exactly loving it."

Logan chuckled, happy for the distraction from his own miserable situation for at least a little while. He could tell Rory was forcing herself to feed him the small talk, but he chose to ignore that fact. He needed the small talk right now, he just needed to be near her.

His eyes caught hers again, and the amount of comfort he could take from just one lingering gaze was astounding. A part of him just wanted to open up to her, to tell this girl who meant the world to him everything that was swimming around in his head. But then again, he wasn't completely sure how.

And that's how he knew he wasn't himself anymore, that he had completely transformed from the person he used to be. Before, talking to Rory had been as natural as breathing. He didn't even have to think about what he wanted to say to her, and half the time she could read the words in his eyes before he even opened his mouth.

But now it was all different. She couldn't read him, and he didn't know what to tell her. He was somewhere in between who he was, who he wanted to be, and who his father was expecting him to be. The later was most important, of course. And now, he knew, that the last two were merging together and becoming one. Who he wanted to be was exactly what his father had always desired him to be.

The Logan Huntzberger of old was gone, and it wasn't fair to put his Ace through missing him all over again.

"Logan," her tone was pleading, "Talk to me, please. Tell me what you're thinking. I can't help you unless you tell me what you're thinking."

"You can't help me anyway, Rory."

"Yes, I can. We've been through so much together, you've always been there for me. Let me be there for you."

"I thought you could be. I thought you were the answer, but you're not."

She was. Of course she was the answer. But she couldn't stay, she couldn't see him fading away.

"Logan..."

"I think you should go. I'm sorry for making you come out here."

"Logan, please."

"Rory," his voice softened, "Go."

She stood slowly, and looked down on him with her piercing gaze. He made brief eye contact with her, before averting his eyes and finishing another glass of scotch.

Don't think. Don't feel. Don't cry.

She turned away from him, and he squeezed his eyes closed tightly. How much more pain could he possibly take? Her heard her walking towards the door, heard it open, but he refused to look up. Somehow, he knew if he even saw her one more time he would break down completely. And he couldn't break down, wouldn't break down. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Not for her, not for anyone.

It was a few minutes before the door closed shut behind her, and the click felt like a stab in his heart.

And then he couldn't fight anymore.

The tears came fast, too fast, and before he could force them back they were streaming down his cheeks. He wiped them away furiously at first, but then surrendered to them. He buried his head in his hand, s bbing silently to release all the tension and misery from the past days, to release the sickening feeling in his stomach he felt as soon as Rory walked out of his life again. And this time, it really would be forever.

She was too much a part of him, of the way he used to be. He thought she would be the one to save him, but in the end, she had been the one to finally break him. This was it. This was the last night of Logan Huntzberger. As the tears subsided, he could feel his grip on himself subsiding completely as well. The silent sobs turned into slow, silent tears, and then he found himself staring blankly at the wall before him. For an instant, he could see her face before him, a small pulling at her lips.

And then she was gone.

Just like that, everything was gone.


	9. She Won't Always Wait

A sea of black greeted Rory when she stepped into the funeral home, and she barely made her way inside before the what seemed like thousands of people closed in around her. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, searching furiously for a familiar face, especially Logan's.

He had told her to leave, and she had considered listening to him, but in the end that had proved impossible. She knew he needed someone, and maybe he even needed her. Deep down, he was falling apart. And for as hard as he tried to hide it, she knew that he was. The night she visited him he couldn't hide the tears swelling up in his brown eyes, or the hard clenching of his jaw whenever a particularly touchy subject was brought up.

He didn't want to talk about it, think about it, or hear that maybe he was the person his father always wanted him to be. Logan was convinced he was a failure as a son and a business man, and now he had to make up for lost time. What scared her the most was knowing that when Logan really wanted something, when he really put his mind to something, nothing was going to stop him.

_A team of psychiatrists with tranquilizer guns couldn't have stopped me._

Her heart flipped at the memory, and she found herself clenching her fists at her sides. The first time Logan had put his mind to something he had ended up in the hospital with life threatening injuries. This time, she feared his self destructive behavior could end up hurting him a lot worse. In the end, his father's death could destroy him. She was determined to do everything within her power to stop that from happening. She wasn't going to go away.

"Rory."

She glanced up at the sound of Colin's voice and forced a small smile, "Hey."

"You seen him yet?" Finn inquired, walking around to Rory's other side.

"No," she shook her head, "I haven't seen much of anything."

"Have you talked to him since...?" Colin let his voice trail off, his eyes finding their way to the floor.

"We've talked. I came over and we had drinks, but then he kicked me out," he paused, her throat constricting, "He's scaring me."

"He'll be okay," Colin assured her, "He just needs time."

"I don't know. I'm afraid we're going to lose him."

"Rory," Finn consoled, placing a hand on her arm, "He just needs time. He'll figure everything out."

She nodded slowly, but she wasn't anywhere near convinced. Colin and Finn were great friends to Logan, _best_ friends, but they didn't know Logan like she did. _Nobody_ did. And she knew this was going to change him, but what she didn't want this to do was break him.

He was everything she wasn't. He was everything a lot of people wanted to be, but never were. He had a smile that could light up a room, eyes that could see into your soul, and a personality that businessman and friends couldn't get enough of. And for as much as he meant to her, she knew he met just as much to Honor, Colin, Finn, and the countless number of friends he'd made in London. He was such an amazing person, and he'd grown into a successful businessman.

He couldn't lose that now. He _couldn't_.

"There he is," Colin murmured.

Rory searched for a second, before her eyes finally landed on Logan. He was standing in a circle filled with older men. He shook hands with each of them, and forced a laugh at something one of them said. Rory expected him to leave quickly, to turn and walk away in search of a drink. Instead, she watched him launch into a story that caused the other men in the group to chuckle and pat him on the back. He wasn't acting like he was at his father's funeral at all; his face showed no sadness, not even an ounce of pain. And that worried her more than him breaking down in the middle of the room ever could have.

"Hi guys. Thanks for coming."

Rory tore her gaze away from Logan to turn to his sister.

"Of course," Colin replied, wrapping Honor up in a hug, "How are you doing?"

"Better, actually. It's getting easier, I guess," her eyes shifted to Rory, "It's good to see you."

Rory smiled sadly and hugged her, "It's good to see you, too. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you. Logan told me you came over the other night."

"Yeah, I did," she paused, "How is he?"

"He's hanging in there better than any of us," Honor smiled, "Logan's always been like that."

"Yeah..." Rory murmured, worry strangling her words.

Logan appeared before them suddenly, and Rory took a small step backwards in surprise.

"Thanks for coming," he greeted, his tone formal, "We appreciate it."

"Of course we came, mate," Finn replied.

Logan nodded firmly, and caught Rory's eye ever so briefly. His eyes weren't the eyes she remembered, and her stomach dropped as she stared into them. No longer was Logan's gaze a deep, kind stare. No longer were his eyes the window to his soul. Now, his eyes didn't focus on any one of the people before him for too long, and he seemed to be constantly searching the crowd for somewhere else to go. They were empty, and distant. Up close, she could see how pale his complexion had become, and the extreme dark circles beneath his eyes. Silently, she wondered if the Logan she knew was in there at all.

"Josh is waving me over," Honor smiled apologetically, "Thanks again."

She disappeared into the crowd, and after following her with his eyes, Logan caught Rory's stare again. This time, he didn't look away, and Rory found herself battling her ex-boyfriend in a staring contest mixed with concern, determination, and change.

Colin cleared his throat, "We're um, going to see your mom..."

Logan nodded, but Rory wasn't sure he actually heard. Even after Colin and Finn left, the two just continued to gaze at each other. Rory could feel tears burning behind her eyes, and she wondered if Logan was feeling the same sensation. If he was, she couldn't tell. Suddenly, the man before her was completely unreadable; the man she used to know like the back of her hand was suddenly a complete stranger.

"I didn't think you'd show up."

"Logan..."

"I'm sorry for kicking you out the other night," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all.

"I was only trying to help," she whispered.

"I know," he smiled softly, "But I don't need help, Rory. I'm doing just fine."

"Yeah?" she questioned.

"Yeah."

"You don't seem like you're--"

"Rory, not here. Not now. I'm fine, okay? _Leave me alone_. I am _fine_."

"Okay," she relented, "Okay."

"I have people to see. Try and find me before you leave, okay? That probably won't be easy," he shrugged, "Being Mitchum comes with a lot of pre-made friends. But I'll traveling a lot after this. I don't know when I'll be back in Connecticut. So, this _will be_ it for us."

"Yeah, okay, but..."

"Thanks again."

He smiled, a fake smile, and touch her elbow lightly as he breezed by. She stared after him, stunned. What was happening to him? Traveling? Mitchum? Friends? He really was becoming his father, and that terrified her. Logan wasn't Mitchum, he wasn't even close, and everyone he knew loved it that way. Logan was who he was because he never wanted to be his father's clone. How could that all be changing now? She bit her lip as she crossed her arms in front of her, searching the crowd for Colin and Finn. They had to see it now. They _had_ to.

"Well, Shira hasn't changed. She's still a superficial bitch."

Rory turned at the sound of Colin's voice, "Maybe we should be more concerned if she had."

"What?"

"Logan, Colin. Don't you see it? He's changed. He's still _changing_."

"Rory," Colin placed a hand on her shoulder, "He's dealing with the death of his father. He's not going to be the Logan you remember. Give him time and he'll come back."

"No," she shook her head, "No, he won't. You don't understand."

"Then make us understand," Finn offered.

"He said he has to become his father. He said that all he did was disappointment Mitchum, and now that he's gone he has to step up and be the son Mitchum always wanted," she paused, "And he won't admit that he's hurting. He's trying to be strong and it's just going to eat away at him and--"

"Hey," Colin squeezed her shoulder, "Of course Logan feels that way. Finn and I probably would, too. _You_ don't understand, Rory. You don't understand what it's like to have a father who never shows the smallest amount of pride in you. Logan feels like a failure because that's what Mitchum always made him feel like. Just let him get this out of his system."

"And you know Logan, love. He's not going to admit that he's in pain, he's just going to ride it out and drink until it passes. We'll keep an eye on him."

"How?" Rory spat, "He's going to be traveling for God knows how long."

"Then he'll have a bunch of people keeping an eye on him," Colin assured her.

"He'll be fine, love."

"And what if he's not?"

"He will be," Colin repeated, "Oh, Finn, there's Robert and some guys from the Brigade. Rory, we'll see you later?"

"Yeah."

They left and she stood, alone, in the crowd. Maybe they were right. Maybe Logan was just dealing with the dearth with the death of his father, and he would return to the man that she knew with time. They were right, she didn't know what it was like to have a father who wasn't proud of her. The way she looked at it, she was lucky enough to have two.

She hoped that was all it was, and that Logan would pass through the faze and return to being himself. But in her heart, she knew this was deeper than that. Logan was slipping away, and the only one that could see it was her. The worst part was that he wouldn't let her get close enough to help him, and she sighed as she wondered if he ever would again.

She loved him. She never stopped. All she wanted to do was help him, but she didn't know if that was possible. It wasn't like she wanted another chance with him. No, she knew that wasn't possible. But she wanted him to be who he was, not who he thought his father expected him to be.

She massaged her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. Maybe it would be best if she just walked away, and let Logan deal with this by himself. That's what he wanted anyway, right? He wanted to be left alone, and he especially didn't want her trying to help. If she distanced herself, maybe she would forget the aching in her heart when she heard the hidden pain in his voice, and saw the emptiness in his chocolate eyes.

Remembering Logan's words, she found his location in the room and weaved her way towards him. Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on his arm, and he turned away from the group of people he was entertaining.

"You leaving?"

"Yeah. Again, I'm sorry, Logan, really."

"Thank you," he snapped, "Goodbye."

And that was all he said before he whipped around and began speaking to the group again. She stood for a second, shocked by his harsh tone, before she forced back tears and walked towards the exit.

"Rory, hey, you leaving?" Honor called, stopping her as she neared the door.

Rory blinked furiously, "Yeah, I, um, I have to go."

"Did you and Logan talk much? He misses you."

"Yeah," Rory said quietly, "We talked a little."

"Good," Honor reached out and hugged her, "Thanks again for coming."

"You're welcome."

"Keep in touch, okay? With Logan, and with me, too."

"Okay."

Rory smiled sadly and pushed through the door, taking in the breeze as it whipped across her face. This was the end. The odds that she would ever talk to Logan again, or that he would even want to, were very slim. She thought they had reached the finish along time ago, but they hadn't. It was here now. He didn't want her around, he didn't want her help. And so, she would pull away. His last words to her, those last bitter words, had sealed their fate. She just hoped Colin and Finn were right. She hoped he was going to be okay. And more than anything, she hoped that they would keep their promise and look after him.

--------

"Mom?" Rory called, walking inside her house and closing the door behind her.

"Rory? What are you doing here? I thought you were at the funeral home."

"I just needed...I needed..." she trailed off, the tears she'd been fighting finally sliding down her cheeks.

"Hey, hun," Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her to the couch, "Come here. What happened."

Rory took a seat next to her mother and buried her head in her hands, "We're losing him._ I've_ lost him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Logan," Rory explained, "He's falling apart and he's changing. He won't admit it, nobody else sees it, and he told me to leave him alone. He's leaving, he's going to travel, and he basically said that we're never going to see each other again. He's going to be in America and said we won't see each other again. He was so harsh and so..._cold_. I'm scared for him, mom. This isn't Logan. This isn't him and--" she choked on a sob, and moved her head to Lorelai's shoulder.

"Shh," Lorelai ran her hand over her daughter's hair, "I know it's hard, Rory, but it's harder on him. Maybe you can see something other people don't, but then again, maybe you care about him so much that you're just a little too concerned. His hurting, hun."

"But he won't admit that he is!" Rory protested, "He keeps telling everyone he's fine and he won't let anyone help him. He wants to be Mitchum, but he doesn't have to be. He doesn't see...he just doesn't..."

"He will. Give him time and he will."

"And what if he doesn't?"

Lorelai released her breath slowly, "Why don't you go lay down for awhile?"

Rory ignored the fact that he mother had completely avoided her question, and nodded her head slowly, "Okay."

She plodded into her old room and collapsed on the bed. Brushing away the remainder of her tears, she curled up tightly, her mind reeling with the events of the day. She couldn't help it that she loved him, she couldn't help that she just wanted him to be okay. When he asked her over, she thought that was her invitation to save him. But in the end, it had only turned out as his invitation to push her away for the last time.

But what if he crashed? What if he found himself working too hard and not seeing his friends enough? What if he found out he couldn't be Mitchum Huntzberger because his heart was just too kind? Would he think of himself as a failure? Would he fall apart even more? Would he need her _then_? What if she wasn't there?

She hoped she wasn't right. More than anything, she wanted Honor, Colin, Finn, and her mother to be right. She hoped with all her heart he was just dealing the situation the best way he knew how and that, with time, he would return to being the person they all knew and loved. Maybe she_ was_ overreacting.

But then why wouldn't her stomach stop dropping every time she thought about him?

Maybe she should just stop thinking about him, maybe that was the key. She would push him out of her life the same way he had pushed her out of his. She came back once, after he kicked her out of his apartment, and the only thanks she'd received in return was a terse goodbye and a near promise that they would never see each other again. So maybe it was time for her to finally move on, and stop caring about whether or not he would be okay.

But she knew she couldn't stop caring; she loved him too much. She just wanted him to be alright. Sighing, she consoled herself with the fact that somebody would call her if he was ever really in need. Somebody would call her..._right_? Or would they simply take the situation into her own hands?

She shook her head furiously. _Stop_, she insisted, _just stop_. There was nothing she could do for him now and she needed to let him go. He would figure everything out. He was Logan Huntzberger; he always had the answers for everything. Why should now be any different? He would be okay, he was Logan, he would be okay. He dealt with things, that was what he did.

Why should this be any different?

But it was.

She sighed, _it was_.


	10. One Broken Man

**AN: Sorry! It seems like years since I've updated this or Open Your Eyes. I know it's really no excuse, but I've been incredibly busy, plus I kind of hit a wall with this story. I know where I want it to go, it's just getting there that is hard. However, I finally wrote a new chapter and I'll try to get the next Open Your Eyes chapter written and up asap. Please read and review!!**

"You're going to need to go back over to London, get everything organized, and then appoint someone in charge," Keith explained to Logan, "When do you want to leave?"

Logan ran his pen lightly over his notepad, "How about Thursday? That will give me some time to wrap up business here."

"Okay. I'll make the arrangements."

Logan clenched his jaw and nodded as he leaned heavily back in the office chair. The New York office was silent now, and it seemed so oddly still after the bustle that filled it all day long. It had been a week since his father's funeral and he was just now wrapping up all the leftover business that needed taken care of. Soon, his father's influence on the business would be all but gone, and Logan would be left to live up to his name.

It was strange to hear himself referred to as Mr. Huntzberger instead of Logan or Huntz. It was strange not to hear the voice of his friends on the other end of his cellphone begging him to come to a party. It was strange that suddenly he couldn't remember who he used to be anymore. All he knew was who he had become, and who had it to be. After all, that was all that mattered now, right?

"Well, I think I'm going to call it night," Keith stood and patted his shoulder, "You should, too. You've got more long days ahead of you."

"Yeah, sure," Logan answered shortly, "Good night."

"Night."

Keith closed the door behind him, but instead of rising to follow, Logan pulled out his latest stack of files and began shifting through them. Sleep wasn't something that came naturally to him anymore; it had to be forced. Often, he didn't feel like bothering. He had too much work to do to worry about getting any rest. He ran a ran over his forehead as he studied some of the latest information from London. Travis and Miles seemed like they were taking care of everything okay, but he would prefer to go back and check up on everything for himself. He would probably ending up putting Travis in charge, since his friend had shown himself to be nothing but completely capable.

He placed the files back on the desk and dropped his head into his hands. He felt like somebody was stacking bricks inside of his skull and there was absolutely no way he could make them stop. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to be in charge of an entire publishing group. That was why his father was always pushing him so hard; he should have listen. If he would have listened, he wouldn't be so overwhelmed. He would've been prepared.

He guessed he was learning fast. He'd successfully gotten Honor back on her feet and his sister was slowly starting to recover from the shock of their father's death. Shira had stopped checking herself into spas and drinking herself into a coma, so he considered that progress. Everyone in his life was successfully taken care of. All he needed now was to prove himself in the world where he was a complete stranger.

His thoughts drifted briefly to Rory, and the last time he saw her. He knew he'd been rude at the funeral, but the truth was he simply didn't have time for her in his life anymore. She was concerned for him, he understand that, but he also understand she was too much of a distraction to have around. The old Logan Huntzberger cared for her. Hell, the old Logan Huntzberger loved the girl more than anything. But he was gone now. And with his former self left all the attraction he felt for her. Maybe their breakup was just a preparation for what had to come. Maybe fate had a way of pulling them apart before Logan was forced to destroy her when his father passed away.

His cellphone rang and he grabbed it, glancing at the id quickly before raising it to his ear.

"Hey Honor."

"Are you still at the office?" she demanded.

"I have a lot to get done."

"Logan, go home, go to sleep. Please," she paused, "I'm worried about you. You practically live there now."

"I have a lot to take care of," he snapped, "In case you forgot, I'm kind of in charge of a company now."

"I know that, Logan," her voice quieted, "It's just that...it doesn't seem like you've even grieved for him, you know? You just kind of shrugged this all off. That can't be healthy."

"I grieved for him. How much can I grieve for a man I barely even knew?" he questioned, his words clipped, "I have to get all his stuff in order, fly to London and put someone in charge, fly back and then figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life. I didn't take this all serious enough when he was alive, and now I'm paying for it. I don't have time for this grieving bullshit, Honor. _I just don't_."

He didn't realize he was yelling until the phone line went silent and he could hear the words echoing in his ears. Sighing, he ran a hand over his forehead, attempting to fend off the headache he knew was forming in his temples.

"You don't have to yell," Honor said finally, her voice coming out in a whisper.

"I know. I _know_. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I know this is hard on you."

"Yeah, well, that's what you get when you're the heir of a company."

"I meant his death," she clarified, "Not your job."

"I have a lot of work to do. Is there anything else you need?"

She paused, "Have you talked to Rory at all since the funeral?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because you love her and you wanted to see her after he died? Maybe because she always got you? Maybe because you need her?"

"_Loved,_" Logan corrected, "Past tense. And I don't need her. All I _need_ is to get back to work."

"Sleep might be a good opt--"

"I'll get some sleep. I promise. Good night, Honor."

"Log--"

"Good night," he cut her off sharply, slamming his cellphone down on the desk.

He unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out the bottle he'd hidden there in the past week. He took a few swigs and then sank into his chair, letting the night drape over him like a blanket.

He wondered what it would be like to return to London after all that had happened. It really hadn't been that long, but it felt like a lifetime. Travis and Miles would be expecting someone who didn't exist anymore. They would be expecting the man who had grown to be their best friend, and Logan wasn't exactly sure where to find him. He guessed that would be shocked at first, maybe even a little concerned, but they would get over it. Everyone would get over it. He would get over it.

He would clear everything up there as quickly as possible, so he wouldn't have to remember how happy he was. Looking back, he found it ironic that the one thing he wanted more than anything caused him the most pain. Going home caused him the most pain, going home broke him. In the end, he would have rather stayed in England forever.

Back then, and even before then, he would've been out at his time of night. Whether with Colin and Finn or Travis and Miles, there was nothing that would've stopped him from at least getting a bite to eat or going to bar for a few drinks. He liked to unwind at the end of the day. He guessed he still did. Only know, he was unwinding alone.

Rory was always the best at helping him relax. With just one touch of her hands against his skin, he could feel every tense feeling in his body relaxing. He would draw her into a kiss and in that instant, in that perfect instant, he felt more alive that he ever had, or ever would, in his lifetime. If nothing else spectacular ever happened to him in his life, at least he got to experience true love.

He hoped that now she would be able to move on. Now that she saw that the man she loved didn't exist anymore, he hoped that she would be able to find someone who would make her happy. He wanted her to be happy, even if he wasn't. He wanted that for her. He hoped she understood, and that she didn't hate him. He hoped she understood him for the final time, for the most important time.

He shook his head and took another swig, hoping to drown away his thoughts. The quiet nights were wonderful, as long as his thoughts didn't crowd his mind. He didn't want to think about his father, or his friends, or Rory. He just wanted to sit, and try to forget about how screwed up his life had become. He wanted to forget that he was suddenly, for reasons beyond his control, very alone.

He tossed the bottle back in the drawer and stood. He would walk back to his apartment, collapse for a few hours, and then be up at the crack of dawn to do it all over again. It was a hard life that his father lived, and Logan was just now beginning to appreciate everything he accomplished in his lifetime. Maybe he didn't want to treat other people the way he did; maybe he just didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to do. Maybe, like Logan himself, he had to learn how not to be human.

--------

He was up before his alarm the next morning, and he was convinced that he didn't even need one anymore. With the paper open on the kitchen table, he sipped cover while running through his agenda for that day. When his cellphone rang, he was expecting a business call, instead he got Colin.

"Hello?" Logan answered, already impatient.

"How are you doing?" Colin replied, his voice filled with nothing but concern.

"I'm fine. Busy."

"I'm sure," Colin paused, seeming unsure of what to say, "Do you need anything? A drink? A conversation? Anything?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine. I'm just trying to get everything of Mitchum's in order. I'm flying to London on Thursday and after that, I'm pretty much taking over."

"Does that mean I have to call you Mr. Huntzberger?" Colin said, obviously attempting at a joke to lighten his friend's spirits.

"Only if you're working for me," Logan replied stiffly.

"Right..." Colin's voice trailed off, "Well, listen, if you need anything just give me a call, okay?"

"You got it."

"Bye Logan."

Logan closed his phone without a goodbye and tossed it onto the table. He knew his friends would give up on him eventually, and he wasn't sure if that would be a relief or his final straw. They were concerned about him now, but soon they would realize that he simply wasn't the same person he used to be. They would move on without him, just like Rory would, and he would be alone. Just like his father, he would spend his days making small talk with strangers and then leaving them behind without a second glance.

He stood, tossed the rest of his coffee down the drain, and headed for the door. He was spending way too much time thinking about his past when he should be moving on with his future.

--------

"I need copies of these as soon as possible. Actually," Logan paused and tossed them on the desk of one of his Hartford employees, "Now would be even better."

"Right away, Mr. Huntzberger."

He was just getting used to thinking of these people as his employees instead of his father's, but he had to say it actually wasn't that bad. For being thrust into the job like he was, he didn't think he was doing too terrible of a job. Keith was always around to guide him when he needed it, but soon enough he would be on his own.

"I have your flight all arranged for Thursday," Keith informed Logan, coming up behind him and motioning towards Logan's office.

"Thanks. I should be ready to go by then."

Logan sat down behind his desk and Keith closed the door before pulling a chair over in front of it. He clasped his hands in front of him and then brought his eyes up to meet Logan's.

"Have you put any thought about who you want to put in charge overseas?"

Logan pulled out a pile of papers and began flipping through them, "I was thinking about giving it to Travis. He's done nothing but a good job over there. He's responsible and he knows his stuff."

Keith studied him for a moment, "I agree that Travis would probably do a good job, but you want somebody to do a great job."

"You know what I mean, Keith."

"You don't want to seem like your picking him only because he's your friend."

"I'm not," Logan placed the papers down, "There's nobody who I would rather have in charge than Travis."

"Maybe that's because you weren't looking at anyone else," Keith sighed and tossed a folder onto Logan's desk "This is the file of Michael Roberts, an excellent employee in New York who has been waiting for an opportunity just like this. Now, I respect your opinion if you want to choose Travis, but..."

Logan snatched up the file, "But what?"

"I suggest you think for a long time about the effect that would have on your image. Everyone knows you're friends with him."

Logan rolled his eyes and laid open Michel's file next to Travis's. He compared them for a few moments, before glancing up at Keith once more.

"These are nearly identical."

Keith nodded, "I know."

"I've seen Travis in action. That gives him the edge."

Keith stared at him, hard, "I don't know if your father ever taught you this, Logan, but how your employees look at you and whether or not they respect you is the most important thing. You can't be put in charge of Huntzberger Publishing Group only to embarrass it by playing favorites. You have a decision to make. Make the right one."

With that, Keith stood up and stormed out of the office, leaving Logan alone to ponder his words. As his eyes drifted back and forth between the two files. He knew Travis was more than capable of handling the paper Logan left behind, but he couldn't get Keith's words out his head. If he chose Travis for the position, he knew he would be looked upon as unfair employer. He didn't want or need that hanging over his head.

On the other hand, he knew how hard Travis worked and he knew how grateful he would be for the opportunity. How could he turn his back on a person who not only had the credentials for the position, but also had worked as hard or harder than Logan in Europe?

As these thoughts racked his brain, he began wondering what his father would do in this situation. It didn't take long for Logan to know the answer. Mitchum would have done whatever would have kept him in good light with his employees. Mitchum would have done what was best for Mitchum's image, and Logan knew that would be giving the job to Michael.

With a soft, regretful sigh, Logan pushed Travis's file aside and spread out Michael's papers before him. He hoped that Michael, whoever he was, would appreciate everything that Logan was doing for him. Even as he realized how happy his father would be with his decision, Logan couldn't help but feel that another piece of himself was being stripped away.

For a moment, he wondered if this was all worth it. For an instant, he wondered if he could have it call. Why couldn't he be a successful businessman, boyfriend, and friend all at the same time?

But then he remembered.

Slowly, he pulled the picture of him and Honor out again and studied it intently. If his father kept this picture, if Mitchum cared enough to hold on to it, why wouldn't he have tried to have it all? If it was possible, Mitchum would have done it. But being in charge of a business this large and important was just too hard. It took up every ounce of energy a person had. Logan couldn't let emotions get in the way, and he had to stop worrying about hurting people and start worrying about how he was projected to the people he was in charge of.

And if that meant leaving his friends behind, so be it. If that met never seeing Rory again, then it had to be. He had something much more important to deal with now, and he couldn't allow himself to become distracted. Nothing could be more important to him than carrying on his father's legacy, and finally becoming the son that everyone, including Mitchum, had always wanted and expected him to be. It was time to grow, and mature, into a person capable of leading Huntzberger Publishing Group for a very long time to come.

He would become the person he never wanted to be, to impress the person he had never before cared to impress.


End file.
